A Dark Knight Over Sin City
by capyle
Summary: Gotham's worst criminals have escaped from Arkham. As always, it's up to Batman to bring them in. The only problem is that they're not in Gotham anymore. They're now in Sin City. Things are about to get a lot more complicated.
1. Gotham

So why'd I come to Gotham?

Good question.

Believe me, spending Daddy's money around Sin City is just about the only thing I have to look forward to when I get up in the morning. Sticking to one town gets a little boring after a while, though. I wanted to give that place a shot. It was made for people like me from what I heard. Time was, it wasn't any different from Sin City. There was total and complete freedom for anyone with the right connections. Then "You-Know-Who" showed up. Took out the mafia, brought down some city officials, and got the police department all nice and squeaky clean. Some jerkoff named Gordon is the commissioner now. He's apparently even more of a boy scout than Hartigan.

Here's the funny thing: Gotham isn't much better off now than what it was before "You-Know-Who" showed up. There's no more mafia but now there are freaks that make me look like Tom Cruise running it. They get their jollies off on other things, though. Like gasing people to make them go crazy and shit. So while I was sure I could meet up with some characters for the weekend, I had a much bigger chance of getting caught. Made things more fun for me.

Anyway, I took Shlubb and Klump with me and they found me a nice little princess from the suburbs. After I was done with her, somehow, my name was passed around the city and I ended up meeting a guy named Crane. Called himself the Scarecrow and dressed the part. Yeah, one of the freaks I was talking about. He heard how much I like it when the girls scream. "I dabble in fear myself," he told me. He wanted to perform some weird experiments on one of my girls. Normally, I like to do these things alone but I wanted to meet the locals anyway, so I figured why not.

He helped me find a couple brats. The last one was from the slums, near some town called Blood-Heaven or something like that. He had her rigged to his machine while I was about to do my business. That was about the time "You-Know-Who" showed up.

The guy just dropped through the skylight, looking like a... well, like a giant bat. I mean, that's his whole schtick, right? Pointy ears, dressed all in black with a big cape that looked like wings. He dropped down through the skylight with shards of glass falling and Crane's men firing bullets in every direction. It was nuts. The guy just lands right in the middle of them and all I see is his cape flapping around and the next thing I know, these guys are getting tossed left and right. My boys, Shlubb and Klump, they're not bad shots even if they talk too much. They couldn't hit the guy for nothing, even with uzis! Next thing I know, they're unconscious at his feet. As for me, I admit, I'm a lousy shot. I never get into gunfights much. I emptied my berretta but didn't hit a damn thing. Didn't help the fact that I was scared shitless. The last time some do-gooder got on my case like this, I ended up getting my ear and hand shot off. Then, I got my nuts blown away for good measure. Spent a while in a coma and woke up as an ugly ,yellow bastard. This guy wasn't John Hartigan, though. I didn't know if he was gonna stop at just ripping my equipment off. Before he could get to me, Crane stepped in, "A perfect opportunity for a guinea pig," he said.

From what I understand, Crane's machine studied my girls' brainwaves and somehow brought up childhood fears or ... yadda, yadda, yadda. It was something like that. Anyway, he turned the machine on to "You-Know-Who". The guy fell to his knees and mentioned something about his mom and dad. It was kinda weird. Didn't think a guy like that had parents. So anyway, here's the crazy part: some kid in a red costume burst through the door, riding a motorcycle. I have no idea where this kid came from, either. These people just show up, I guess. Apparently, this kid in tights runs around with him on adventures sometimes. And they call **me** sick?

So the kid smashes the machine with his motorcycle, then "You-Know-Who" gets right back up. This machine was supposed to bring full grown men to their knees. Crane had used it previously on one of his stooges and the guy was in quaking fear for hours. "You-Know-Who" got over it just like that. Knocked Crane out from what I could tell. At this point, I was hauling ass out of there. I got in my car and took off as fast as possible while the Scarecrow was getting his head kicked in and who knows what else. I never got a chance to even touch that little girl. Crane went to some place called Arkham while the rest were thrown in jail, including my boys. My dad was pissed but he was still able to pull some strings to get Shlubb and Klump off. "You-Know-Who" grilled them for a few minutes while they were being held. They told him about me, so who knows what will happen there. Dad said to lay low for a bit while he tried to handle things.

The funny part is, I must've gotten some kind of rep while in Gotham. A lot of those sickos heard about me now and want to visit Sin City. It seems that they think they can do business over there without ayone sticking their nose in it. They're probably right, too.

I only know one thing, though: I'm never going to that fucking town again.


	2. A Psycho's Playground

I was on his trail after his first victim. The only thing I knew about him, besides what he enjoyed doing to children, was that he apparently had some sort of waste processing failure which turned his skin yellow and made him smell god awful. According to Penguin, he supposedly showed up at his club, throwing money around. He had plenty to spend and didn't mind showing it off. At one point, he had a few too many drinks and started making unreasonable demands, threatening to "call my dad" if they weren't met.

When he allied himself with Scarecrow, he gained enough temporary protection to get another victim and kidnap a third. Luckily, I knew Crane's MO and was able to track both of them down before the third victim could be killed or worse. His voice was shrill, high-pitched. "Dammit, Crane," he whined as he pulled his berretta, "You said he wouldn't show up." While I was dealing with Scarecrow, he escaped but I had a room filled with cronies to interrogate, so someone was bound to know something. I started going through arrest records. No one seemed to have much information so it was likely he was from out of town. Perhaps he brought some friends?

Most of the men were from Gotham. They were typical lowlives who often did dirty work for the likes of the Scarecrow or Joker. Two of them, however, were from Basin City; they were certainly not locals. Basin. Otherwise known as **Sin City.** A place that could be Gotham's twin sister if I didn't have anything to say about it. Their names were Burt Shlubb and Douglas Klump, a.k.a. Fat Man and Little Boy. They seemed pretty talkative so I paid a visit while they were in holding.

"Mr. Klump," the little one said as he woke up from his cot, "I wish nothing more than to alarm you but it seems that we have a most intimidating visitor. One with whom we are too well acquainted."

"Indeed, Mr. Shlubb," the fat one wore a dog collar and had awful hygiene, "I had but one wish while staying in Gotham and that was to never set eyes on the Batman again and yet, he is in our presence once more. One wonders if this horror is nothing more than a nocturnal vision spawned from my subconscious as I slumber."

"I daresay that your theory is erroneous, for we face a very harsh reality, Mr. Klump."

"Quiet. Both of you," I knew this wouldn't take long so I got down to business, "You're from Basin City. Your employer was as well. Who is he?"

"Far be it for me to speak for my associate but I believe it's fair to say that we do not understand the meaning of your question, sir."

I hefted Shlubb up by his shirt collar, "I'm talking about that yellow bastard you work for! Who is he? Where is he? And who is his father?"

"Mr. Shlubb," Klump was now hiding behind the cell toilet, "We face a conundrum. We do not wish to betray our employer out of fondness of our ability to breathe. And yet, I do believe that if we do not speak in earnest, we face consequences of the most violent and extreme from our current visitor. Consequences that could perhaps be far greater than those we face from our employer?"

"I share your concern, Mr. Klump."

I threw Shlubb into Klump's face and said nothing. I allowed them the opportunity to talk. As I said, it did not take long. "H-His name is ... ," Shlubb began, but he was cut off by the sound of the cell door opening. Gordon came through the door, followed by a federal agent who was a tall, bald man with an eagle tattoo across his face. "I'm sorry," was all that Gordon said. The agent didn't introduce himself and said little more than, "By orders of Senator Roarke, I am to take these two into custody." Just like that, these two thugs were released. It was obvious why. Someone didn't want them to talk. Someone powerful. Perhaps the agent gave me the answer I was looking for when he mentioned a Senator Roarke?

As the two thugs were brought out into a helicopter, Gordon pulled me aside. "There may be more trouble ahead," Jim told me, "There was a breakout in Arkham." I asked for a list:

Two-Face, Poison Ivy, Riddler, Mr. Zsasz, Killer Croc ...

... and **the Joker.**

Damn. Why does this always happen? No matter how many times I put them away, they come back. Sometimes I wonder how much good I'm really doing. I had no time to waste on emotion. I immediately began to track them down but they didn't seem to be leaving their usual calling cards. No riddles. No games. No traces whatsoever. The breakout was almost immediately after the Yellow Bastard Case so I worked on a hunch. I visited Scarecrow.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," he explained, "After I told them about that fellow from Basin, they were ecstatic. Sin City is quite well known amongst us, but to hear of the exploits of one of its finest citizens first hand . . . No, I didn't catch his name. He was little more than a prop to me. I found him distasteful. I'm a psychiatrist, not a psychopath, after all . . . At any rate, they simply would not stop asking about . . . Well, yes, of course . . . It's a city without you, dear boy. A city without law or order. It's a perfect playground for their ilk . . . Not for me, of course. As I said, I'm not a psychopath . . . And you should have heard their reaction to that. Two minor henchmen were snatched from your grasp. It was obvious you had no control over Sin City. That's why they decided to see the place for themselves."

I placed Dick and Tim in charge of the city with Barbra on scanner duty. I told my co-workers I was going to Basin for business. "I wonder if Bruce isn't just going over there for Old Town," I overheard one of them say. They think they know me. If all they know is Bruce Wayne, then they know nothing but a mask. My real identity has a job to do. I'm going to Basin. I'm coming back with six friends.


	3. Sewage Work

Being a private investigator is a sleazy job. Being a PI in Sin City is even worse. I think I swim through more shit than a sewage worker. The jobs can get pretty dangerous and the clients are always shady. In fact, it's usually the case that, the shadier the client, the more dangerous the job. This was proven when I had the strangest, shadiest client show up at my own apartment with the most dangerous case I've had to date.

I had just gotten back from Shelly's that night. I was feeling like a jerk, crying over Ava leaving me. For a while, Shelly made me forget everything but I knew I couldn't get too involved. I ended up leaving her place without her knowing. Made me feel like even more of a jerk. I couldn't let the monster out like that again. It was a rare, cold night in Sin City. It was snowing so I let my hair grow back slightly for a little extra warmth. It was only a little but considering the way I had treated Shelly, I changed my mind and decided to have a good shave. It was a good reminder for me to keep myself in check. When I finished, I looked up in my bathroom mirror and that's when I saw his reflection. The goddamn Batman. "Dwight McCarthy," was all he said. I pulled the colt 1911 from my back pocket and shoved it in his face as I wheeled around. Point blank. I had him dead to rights, or so I thought. The guy didn't even blink. Seemed more annoyed than anything but that didn't concern me at the moment. A million questions were going through my mind and at the top of the list was: what the hell is he doing here?

"I didn't come here for a confrontation, Mr. McCarthy," he explained in a calm, but somehow aggressive tone, "I suggest putting the gun away."

I thought about it for a moment and then did what he asked, "What do you want from me?"

"Information."

"I'm not the most reliable guy in town for that. There's a lot of people out there that know I lot more than I do, whatever it is."

He continued, "Have you heard any rumors concerning criminals from Gotham City showing up here in Basin City?"

"I might've heard a few things," I really didn't want to get involved in this so I played the fool a little, "Can't always believe rumors."

"Do you know the Joker?"

"Mass-murderer that looks like a clown? Yeah, I watch the news. Always kind of wondered why you haven't snapped the bastard's neck yet."

That last statement obviously didn't sit well with him, going by the tone in his voice, "He's here in Basin City among other psychos that are almost as dangerous. I need your help finding them."

"Why not take it to the cops?," obviously, I knew the answer to that question but I wanted to get rid of this guy and fast.

"I have a good idea as to how this city works," he told me, "I've gathered information and learned that you are good at getting the sort of answers I need. You know this city, you know who to ask and you know how to do it quickly. I've heard you have a reputation of helping people."

"Don't start thinking I'm some kind of saint. I only ..."

Then he dropped five hundred bucks on my sink. I thought about checking to see if it wasn't counterfeit but Batman isn't gonna be into money laundry. Makes me wonder what he does on his days off, though. "I'll give you the other half when you gather some information," he explained. I shrugged and agreed to help him out. Hey, every man has his price and I needed to make rent.

He only wanted information, so I went looking while he left to do whatever it is that he does. He gave me some kind of tracking device before he split, though. I was supposed to contact him once I had a few leads. My first step was going back to Kadie's. I saw Marv there earlier that night and I decided it might be good to have some sort of backup. When I returned, Kadie said he had just left and wasn't in very high spirits. Probably had something to do with that old guy Nancy had run off with earlier that night. I was flying solo but all I had to do was get information, so I decided to wing it. I wasn't as careful as I should've been. I did find Weevel, though. The only thing he knew was that it was a good idea to stay away from the Pits at the time. The Pits was usually the place to dump evidence or bodies. It was an abandoned dinosaur-themed amusement park that went belly up. All that remained were some stupid statues and a whole lot of tar. Teenagers went there to make out at times but some haven't been coming back. Since then, people have been staying away. In Sin City, these kind of occurrences happen too often but I figured it might've been something Bats would be interested in. I decided to be an idiot and investigate.


	4. The Farm

The snow was beginning to melt somewhat. I happened to come to Basin during one of its rare snow storms which was fine by me. I never expected to feel comfortable there and I wanted to leave as quickly as possible. I left McCarthy to gather what information he could while I tied up the loose end of dealing with the Yellow Bastard. I gave him a tracer signal and told him to contact me if he found anything. Meanwhile, I did some investigating into the Roarke family since it was Senator Roarke who got Shlubb and Klump out of jail.

I snuck into the archives and found that the Roarke legacy goes all the way back to the founding of the city. Besides the Senator, there was an attorney general and a Catholic cardinal to carry on the name. In a city filled with sinners, they were the only saints, supposedly. I found one interesting story concerning a disgraced cop and the Senator's son eight years prior. John Hartigan had apparently kidnapped and raped a young girl. Somehow, Junior Roarke was on the scene and was brutally shot and placed in a coma. Judging from what I knew about Basin City cops, they would be reluctant to help me so broke into the police station and checked the case. Not surprisingly, Shlubb and Klump both testified in Hartigan's trial. All the pieces came together. Junior was more than likely not in a coma any longer and Hartigan, one of the cleanest cops in the city, had taken a fall trying to bring him down. Whatever process Roarke had gone through to recover from his shooting turned him into a freak. I tried to find any secluded areas he might be hiding out and found information about a Farm at North Cross and Lennox. Even the cops were very reluctant to go there. Once I looked into it, I found that the farm was run by a bankrupt beef company which was owned by the Roarke family.

Since I was across the country, I didn't have my usual vehicles. I used my Matches Malone identity to rent a Porsche Carrera GT. Probably stolen but that wasn't important. It was fast. I made it to the Farm and immediately got a sick feeling in my stomach. This place was bad. I could feel it. There was a familiar odor in the cold air so I followed it.

When I came out of the woods, I found the body of an elderly man who had shot himself in the face with a magnum. The body was warm so it had not been long. I checked the ID and was surprised to learn that it was John Hartigan. What was he doing there and why'd he kill himself? I made my way to the Farm. A wooden fence, a barn, a tractor, and an old house was all that stood in this patch of ground. An old windmill creaked slowly, creating the only noise to be heard at the moment. I soon found the bodies of four armed guards who had been shot by what appeared to be magnum rounds. Was it possible that Hartigan shot them? When I checked the barn, I found the remains of Junior Roarke, the stench of his corpse made me feel even more sick. The Yellow Bastard Case was now closed but I was less than pleased with the results. Junior had been stabbed, castrated, and had his skull caved in. I wasn't completely sure what had happened but it had been recent. It was only a matter of time until the area would be getting visitors to clean up.

I left the barn and heard a low growl behind me. I spun around in time to see a wolf leaping over a mound of snow. I shot it with a tranquilizer before it came too close and it was out. I knew a wild animal would not be this close to a human residence unless it belonged to someone. It wasn't long before I met its owner. He was quiet. Quick. I almost didn't see him coming. He was nearing middle age and balding. He wore glasses, converse sneakers, and a sweater. He was less than assuming but there was something going on behind his eyes. Also, he was agile and clearly skilled. He leapt head high, giving me a sharp kick to the jaw.

I rolled down a snow bank and was on my feet by the time he made it back to me. I ducked under the next kick, giving him a punch across the face. He spun around on one foot and I placed my heel between his shoulder blades, knocking him onto a pile of snow. He never made a sound, despite the flow of blood pouring out of his nose and mouth. In fact, it almost seemed like he smiled briefly. He opened his hand, showing several large fingernails, and began to go for my throat and eyes. I backed away, giving him a jab to the ribs. He responded by shoving two fingers into my bicep with a nerve strike. My arm went numb but it didn't matter. I had three other limbs.

I sprang back on my good arm with a somersault kick. He was forced to avoid the blow, which gave us the distance I wanted. I threw a batarang but he ducked so I used the opportunity to attack low with a sweep kick. He jumped over my head, landing in the snow behind me. When I turned back to him, he came at me with a split kick. I caught his ankle with my good arm and threw him against the old tractor. He still never made a sound. The next claw slash grazed my cowl but didn't touch any skin. The kick landed against my chest, forcing me back. I was no longer in the mood to play games. I spun around, making it hard for him to follow me through the folds of my cape. My knee eventually found his temple and he fell to the ground. He wasn't completely out and he still didn't make any noises; but fortunately he was on the verge of unconsciousness and it was apparent that he would no longer be able to continue the fight.

Just then, I heard the faint roar of helicopter propellers that were gradually getting louder and closer. The entire area was illuminated a few moments later. A police copter was descending, blowing snow away from the ground as it began to land. The clean up crew was here and I didn't need to have another pointless battle. I left through the woods, unseen by the police. The farm boy would have to wait. I came to my car and left down the old road with answers to my Yellow Bastard case but none that I liked. By the time I reached the city, I got a signal from Dwight McCarthy. Apparently, the night was not over.


	5. The Pits

I parked my caddy just outside the Pits. There was still a good, solid sheet of snow on the ground but I could tell that it was gonna be melting in the next few days once it began to heat up. The place wasn't as dark as I thought it'd be. With the moonlight reflecting off the snow, it actually made the dinosaur statues seem creepier. I signaled for Batman just in case. Something in my gut told me things weren't right.

I made my way to the old stands and tourist information booths which were run down but still standing. When this amusement park took a dive, no one ever bothered to tear all that old crap down. The place turned into sort of a ghost town that way. I came to the theater where they would show movies and stuff. The doors had a chain and lock on them which wasn't surprising. The thing was: the lock was a shiny, new lock. Obviously, someone was currently using the place and didn't want anyone to get nosey. I decided to be nosey anyway and snuck around the back, hoping to see something in the window. When I came to the rear, there was the faint glow of flashlights inside. It was enough to convince me to finally take off. It was enough of a lead to satisfy Batman.

"How's it going?," I heard a woman's voice behind me. She had bright red hair and a leopard jumpsuit. There was a metal staff in her hands, which extended into a long pole with twin blades on either side. I began to pull my piece but she knocked it out of my palm and gave me a kick to the side of the head. I was out. I have no idea how long but I started to wake up when I felt the warmth of being inside and the sensation of a hard wood floor underneath me.

"Did you make sure no one else was with him, Mariah?," I heard a voice ask as I began to come to.

"Nah, he was alone," the red-headed chick must've been Mariah, "Hurry up, guys. We don't have all night."

I opened my eyes a little but made sure not to reveal that I was awake. I was up on the theater's stage where some guys were setting up a camera and some lights. Mariah stood in front of them, tapping her heels. Beside her was a thin man with messy hair and stubble. He removed his coat, revealing a bare chest with apparently self-inflicted scars all over his back, chest, and arms as if he had been counting something (victims, probably). He turned and made his way to me, pulling a large knife.

"Are the cameras, ready?," he asked.

"All set, Mr. Zsasz."

I decided to stop playing possum and sprang to my feet. This Zsasz guy was pretty quick but I managed to catch his wrists before he stabbed me. "Don't step in guys," I could hear Mariah telling the crew, "This will be great for the cameras: a nice little fight before the kill. The Colonel will be happy." I twisted the knife away from him but he hit me in the jaw. My gun had obviously been taken from me but I didn't need it to deal with him. I spun around and planted my heel in Zsasz's face, knocking him onto his back. Mariah sighed and began to walk towards me to deal with me herself. I was a dead man.

At this point, Batman dropped down from... who knows where. For a second, everyone froze. "This film will make a shitload of money," Mariah said with a smile as she turned toward Batman. She flipped into the air, spinning that blade of hers. Meanwhile, Zsasz grabbed me from behind. Seemed like he was going for my throat. I held onto his wrist and rolled along the ground. I got a good cut on my shoulder from it but it made Zsasz let go. I sat up, making sure the psycho was pinned. Then I noticed that Bats had caught Mariah's staff. He got her with an uppercut. Knocked her completely off the stage. I got too wrapped up in their fight, though. Zsasz kicked me off of him and went for the knife, "Don't delay the inevitable. I am already thinking about where I will place you on my skin." I landed on top of him, bringing my heel against the back of his head and he was finally out.

The camera crew finally managed to get enough courage to pull their guns. Batman threw some kind of boomerangs, knocking their guns out of their hands. I went in, kicking one of them in the face, breaking his nose. Batman tackled the biggest one and took him out with a hard-as-hell punch. I elbowed the last one in the neck when he tried to make a break for his gun. While he was stunned, I hit him again and knocked him out cold. It ended up scrapping my knuckles a little. I hate that.

"You weren't supposed to engage anyone," Batman started snarling at me immediately.

"I didn't have much of a choice," I snapped back. I hated talking to him like that after he saved my life but he really pissed me off.

"I thought that you would be competent enough to avoid being captured!"

"Normally, I am."

"Do you realize what would've happened if I hadn't shown up?"

"I would've become a snuff film star. Not the best way to go."

"At least I have one of them. That's all that matters right now," Bats pulled Zsasz onto his feet, shaking him awake, "What's going on here, Victor?"

"The film industry is big in Sin City, but most of them feature amateurs," he cackled, "A lot of interested parties wanted a film that showed the work of a **true** professional, especially one from Gotham. I simply care about showing people the true meaning of life, but if they want to turn it into an art form, so be it."

"Do you know anything about the Joker?"

"No, but it'll be interesting to see how he performs in this city, don't you think?"

Batman had apparently heard enough. He head butted the guy, knocking him out again. "So you have what you wanted," I told him, "I'm out." Without saying a word, Bats dumped the rest of the cash on the stage. I took it and left. I was really acting like a jerk. I got too caught up in the excitement. A day later, I read the news. Batman somehow had connections and Zsasz was transported back to Gotham. The rest were arrested. No mention of Mariah. She probably got away. According to the paper, there were still several Gothamites in town, including the Joker. I just hope I don't see any of them again. I have enough crap to deal with.


	6. Marv

I'm not a hero. I'm not a good guy. I don't dress up in a fruity cape and mask and fight people that call themselves the Penguin. I'm just a guy from Sin City that prefers to be left alone. Unfortunately, most people don't wanna leave me alone. That, or they want to mess with people they have no right messing with and I gotta take care of things. Take this Killer Croc guy as a way of for instance.

The guy came from Gotham and was supposed to be even bigger and uglier than me. He moved into the Projects and took over the street gangs there. Word is that he was moving his way up the food chain. All I knew was that he was muscling his way into my old neighborhood and a lot of innocent people were getting caught in the middle. See, I have a reputation there. I've done favors for them more than once. It's one of the few places I feel respected and this jerkoff was making it even more of a mess than it already was. A nice, classy dame by the name of Chasity called me up and asked if I could help. There was a rumor Batman was in town too but how do you contact a guy like that? That's if the rumors were even true to begin with. Folks in Sin City aren't used to getting help all that often and they have real trust issues for obvious reasons. They wanted me because they knew me. I obliged.

"He killed Ricky," Chasity sobbed, "That thing just tore into him." Ricky was her younger brother. He had apparently gotten involved with some local gangs and it caught up with him. Chasity had been taking care of him ever since their parents passed away. She was beautiful. She had golden hair, big gorgeous eyes, and a body that I could watch for days. It was a shame she had to grow up in the Projects. Damn shame. She could've done much better for herself if life gave her a better chance. She didn't say much over the phone `cuz she wanted to meet me in person.

"Don't know if I can be much help but I'll do what I can," I told her.

"Thank you, Marv," she whispered, "That thing needs to be stopped."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. By the way her eyes got bigger, I could tell she wasn't expecting anyone but me. "Let `em in," I said quietly and I hid in the bathroom with Gladys ready in my palm. She undid all the locks and the door swung open. The guy really was bigger than me and his entire body looked like it was covered in scales. He had a nasty set of teeth and big red eyes too. Didn't seem human but he apparently was. Suffered from some sort of rare disease from what I hear. He had two mooks following him that looked like local hoods.

"Who else is here?," Killer Croc's voice sounded about the way you'd think it would.

"I - I don't know what you're talking about," Chasity stammered as he moved in closer.

"They said you called someone named Marv," he got in her face and I could imagine how bad his breath smelled, "Who's Marv? Tell me! They said they saw him coming up to your apartment! Do you have someone coming after me?"

I'm a big guy but I can be real sneaky when I want. I made my move, grabbing the first mook, giving his neck a good twist with my free hand. Killer Croc and the other one turned around once they heard the body hit the floor. Gladys was already pointed at the second thug before he could even raise that shitty little 9mm he had on `im. He got two shots to the chest for his troubles. Croc smiled. Looked like he was ready for a fight. It was the same look I get just before caving in someone's skull so I had an idea what I was in for. I unloaded a few rounds into his chest while Chasity bolted out the door. I hit my mark but Croc just lost his balance a little and then came at me like he was never shot to begin with. I hit him with my hardest punch once he got close. My fist felt like it hit a brick wall and he didn't seem to feel a damned thing. "Heh, that's a first," I had to laugh a little.

He just kind of growled, then he nailed me. I've never been hit so hard in my life. Felt like a canon went off into my chest. I hit the bookshelf behind me, shattering it to splinters. Croc grabbed me by the coat and picked me up, showing me every row of teeth in that nasty maw of his. I smashed a board over his head and it seemed like he actually felt that one a little since he let go and stumbled back. I went at him again but Croc shoved a claw in my face, smashing me through the bathroom door. I grabbed him by the back of his head, dropping down with all of my weight and strength. It was enough to smash his face into the sink. The whole thing was busted almost in half but he still didn't seem to be hurt too bad. He punched me again; got me right in the kisser. I hit the wall and slid down, ripping down tiles and plaster as I went. My head was swimming and there was a cloud of dust hanging in the air.

"Give up?," he said with a sick smile.

"Not... on your life... asshole," I managed to spit that one out along with some blood.

He shrugged. Next thing I knew, I was going out the window. I woke up a few hours later in the alley outside. The glass and wood had cut me up and my head felt like my brain was oozing out of my ear but I was alright otherwise. Some neighborhood kids were staring at me. I must've looked like a train wreck. Sure as Hell felt like a train hit me.

"He's dead," I heard one of the kids say.

"He ain't dead!," the little one chimed in.

"Yeah, he is!"

"But his eyes are open," the last one leaned in closer for a better look.

"That happens when you're dead."

"No, it don't!"

"Yeah, it does!"

**"I ain't dead yet!"**

"See, told ya!"

I got back up and limped my way out of the alley. I was alive and well; apparently Croc didn't know that. It worked in my favor. I knew he wouldn't have his attention drawn on me. Gave me time to plan. Like I said, I ain't dead yet.


	7. The Man Who Spoke in Riddles

I stayed long enough to see Mr. Zsasz in the back of a squad car and then contacted Gordon. He pulled a few strings and Zsasz was transferred back to Gotham. A team of federal agents were stationed in the city for the purpose of transporting the Arkham inmates back to Gotham. When I caught the rest, I was assured they all would be sent back. That was a relief since I didn't want them in a Basin City jail any longer than they had to be. With the corruption and cold apathy in this city, it would be easier for them to find their way back on the streets. As for the red haired woman, she was apparently supposed to be Victor's bodyguard. They were both working for a man calling himself the Colonel. She ran off during the battle. McCarthy had proven ineffective so I decided to strike out on my own. The temperature rose quite a bit overnight. There was hardly any snow left on the ground but there was still a sharp chill in the air.

The sky had some cloud coverage so the spotlights on top of the Basin City Police precinct worked well enough. Several small search lights had been lined up with crude, wood and cardboard cut outs of the bat symbol. They pointed in all directions in an obvious attempt to alert me. When I arrived on the roof, I was greeted by a large, bald man and a smaller man with long, dark hair. When I had looked through the police records, I saw their pictures: Lieutenant Liebowitz and Detective Jack Rafferty, aka Iron Jack. There was little reason to trust them since they were Basin City cops but I heard them out.

"This is for you, apparently," Liebowitz said after a very brief and cold introduction, "It was sent to us this morning. While you're here, you might wanna know a few things: my precinct ain't a damn post office, this isn't Gotham, and I'm sure as hell not Commissioner Gordon," he handed me a green envelope that had the bat symbol on the front along with several question marks in the background.

It seemed that the Riddler decided to come to me first, which wasn't surprising. "The sooner you take these wackos out, the sooner you can leave, right?," Rafferty spoke up, "Near as we can tell, you're part of the problem. These guys wouldn't be here right now if you did your job right and put a few bullets in them."

"If you stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours," I told them and left.

The Riddler's envelope contained the following message: _"When is a quarter a square? That's right. It'll be tonight, at the hour when the wolf howls."_ I read the last line and knew it was a set time. It referred to the hour of the wolf, which is the time between night and dawn; roughly 4 and 5 AM. _"When is a quarter a square?"_ It's when it is a triangle. If you cut a square into four quarters, they form triangles. The middle line was "That's right". Obviously, a right triangle. I traveled 180 degrees North of the police station until I hit a major intersection that split off in four directions, similar to the Riddler's description. I set up my binoculars and listening devices. I expected a meeting between four of my remaining five enemies. Riddler would be there, obviously. Killer Croc, Poison Ivy, and Two-Face would be there as well. Zsasz was obviously out of the picture already. Joker was still silent but would not usually be the sort to conspire with the others and they knew enough not to trust him. I didn't like the fact that he was so quiet but I had to be patient. Around 4:15 AM, they arrived just as I expected. Two-Face wore a black and white suit. Riddler was in his green suit with question marks, a hat, and a domino mask. Croc was in a tattered pair of jeans and a sleeveless shirt. Ivy wore a green dress made of leaves as opposed to her usual costume for once.

"So why are we here, Nigma?," Two-Face sneered.

"Why would a general call for a meeting between enemies?," Riddler asked with that arrogant grin of his, "I'll even make it multiple choice. **A:** To plan a sneak attack? **B:** To call a truce? **C:** To make an ultimatum? I haven't attacked and I'm not really going to give up and call a truce so soon, am I?"

Croc snatched him by the collar, lifting him up, "Plain English!"

Ivy rolled her eyes, "He's making an ultimatum, Croc."

"I know," Croc dropped Riddler to the ground, "I just hate it when he talks like that."

"We all want this city, obviously," Riddler explained as he dusted himself off, "Soon, it won't be big enough for the four of us and once Joker rears his ugly head, things will get even more complicated. Therefore, I'll give you the option of allying yourself under my leadership before things get nasty. Consider it a gift. A very gracious one at that."

"Not a chance," Two-Face snapped.

"We've both been speaking to Herr Walenquist, Dent," Riddler said, "Ivy, you're getting into Damien and Ava Lords' good graces right now. As for you, Croc, I've heard you have a nice chunk carved out in the Projects. When it hits the fan..."

"I'm not worried about that," Ivy explained.

"Me neither," Croc growled.

"So it's decided," Two-Face explained as he flipped his coin, "Whatever happens, happens. It is what it is."

"So be it," Riddler said, finally.

They left. I followed Riddler, deciding to find out what his game was. He obviously knew I was there. When I tailed him to the alley, I knew that once he turned the corner, he'd be gone and another clue would be left behind. As expected, he was gone and a note hung from a wire overhead. _"If you're looking for the most dangerous game, the comedian is late for his performance on stage,"_ was the first part. It meant the Joker was nowhere to be found. He knew I would be interested in his first for obvious reasons. _"If you're looking for the second most dangerous game, Darwin will be working backwards to find it."_ Darwin working backwards? Instead of evolution, you would have atavism, a regressed state. He was talking about Killer Croc. _"As for me, I'll give you an answer for once. I won't be committing a single crime for the next month." _Obviously, there would be more to it than that. He wasn't lying but it was apparent he wanted me to take out his competition. The best way to do that was to point out the most dangerous opponent and step back. I decided to play Riddler's game for the moment. I went after Killer Croc.


	8. The Projects

Despite all appearances, Killer Croc was not unintelligent. He chose the Projects because it held some of the most dangerous people in Sin City, yet they had little leadership and nothing to lose. The gangs were unorganized so seizing power would be easy, unlike the mafia who had a longer chain of command and more loyal troops. By the time I had arrived, Croc had control of the entire neighborhood.

I had read about the Projects. Even as far as Basin goes, it was dangerous. The local government threw a lot of money into the district, only to run out midway, leaving the entire area in a state of near-ruin. I entered the neighborhood without being seen but I made my presence known at a seedy bar once I was deep inside. I asked for Croc and, as expected, no one gave me any answers. Someone tried to break a pool stick over my back but I snapped it in half then threw him across the room. It made the rest of them more talkative. Croc was holed up in an old, one story apartment complex that had been abandoned by both the tenants and the government a long time ago.

I brought a SWAT-team style smoke grenade launcher with me. It proved to have better distance and more coverage than my usual smoke bombs. I fired a few canisters through the back windows, raced around front, and fired a few more. The complex was filled with smoke almost immediately. Several of the men came rushing out with guns and knives ready but I made sure I was nowhere to be found for the moment. Croc emerged seconds later, "Get back everyone," he commanded, "I know who's here. I can smell `im." That's when I decided to make my presence known. I landed on Croc's shoulders, boxing both ears. I wasn't strong enough to do any harm with normal punches but with his enhanced hearing, it would be excruciating. He shrugged me off and I somersaulted onto the street.

His men stood back, as per his orders, while he charged, "I knew you'd show up eventually!" I pulled both tasers from my belt, striking him in the neck and then the temple. The electric charges made him even more sluggish. He threw a punch but I ducked underneath it, coming around his back. That's when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Someone was on the roof with a bow and quiver of arrows. He fired and I rolled out of the way as the arrows embedded themselves into the pavement. Croc took the opportunity to tackle me and throw me against a wall. The wind was knocked out of me and the backhand that came next didn't help matters. I landed in the middle of the street; then he pulled me into a bear hug, cutting off my oxygen.

Suddenly, I heard tires screeching about a block away. A vintage 1957 Mercedes peeled around the corner, fish tailing slightly. Croc's ears must've still been ringing because he didn't hear the engine until it was too late. He dropped me and spun around just as the headlights turned on him. I rolled out of the way just asthe car slammed into Croc's gut, sending him tumbling along the asphalt. The car buckled and then spun away from the impact. My head was still swimming from Croc's attacks so I couldn't do much for a few seconds except watch. A large man stepped out of the car, wearing a long trench coat. He was close to seven feet tall and probably weighed around 300 pounds. He was ugly as Hell and had a few bandages across his face. I would later know him as Marv.

"Payback's a bitch, huh?," Marv held a fire extinguisher in both hands and had a deranged smile across his face. He swung the fire extinguisher across Killer Croc's face like a club. He hit him again with an upward swing. Croc stumbled back more but regained his bearings quickly. "I'll make sure you're dead this time!," he roared and brought his claws down. Marv raised the fire extinguisher, allowing Croc to slice into it. The entire contents of the canister exploded out of the side, directly into Croc's eyes. He snarled and began to rub them furiously; he was now blind and deaf. I was able to stand back up so I rushed to get between the two of them. I had no idea who Marv was but I didn't need nor want his interference. As Croc was doubled over, Marv pulled a .45 Colt and was about to pull the trigger at near point blank range. Croc can stand up to gunfire from a distance. Up close, I wasn't sure how well he could take it and I wasn't going to find out. I stepped in between them, putting both tasers against Croc's chest, just over his heart. It finally brought him to the ground, cracking the pavement under his weight. I reached into my belt and emptied the contents of the syringe I had been carrying. The concoction was potent enough to put Croc under a deep sleep for a few days: just long enough to have him transported back to Arkham.

"Nice move," he told me, "Name's Marv."

"You're going to give me that gun," I warned him.

"Take the cork out, pal. It ain't me you outta be paying attention to right now."

The conversation ended there when Croc's gang attacked. Marv leapt into a crowd of them, bowling them over. I really did not need this. I threw a handful of batarangs, knocking many guns from their hands. One of them had a bowie knife and was swinging wildly while another tried to snare me with a chain. I wrapped the chain around my fist and threw him into the knife-wielder. While this was happening, I kept an eye on Marv. He wasn't using the gun, preferring melee combat, apparently. He gorilla pressed a thug over his head and flung him into a small group. I punched one gang member in the abdomen, making him double over. I then rolled over his back, kicking another one.

It was around that time that the Basin Police Department arrived. Two armored vans roared onto the scene, lights flashing. Several cops wearing kevlar jumped out, wielding batons and shields. It was obvious the department wanted to keep tabs on me. They didn't care about these thugs and I certainly didn't need the fight. "Damn cops," Marv muttered. I knew he was insane but I also knew he wouldn't kill any officers. He didn't seem the type. I still kept an eye on him, just in case. He checked one officer against the wall while I took care of the thugs behind him. I brought one down with a roundhouse, flipped over his head and took two out. Marv grabbed a cop's shield and launched it into another thug's face. I ducked under a baton-swing from a cop and swept his feet out from under him. Then, the thugs and cops began to assault each other, clashing together in one big mob.

In the melee, I could see my friend with the bow and arrow. He was now at ground level and taking aim. I shot a sharpened batarang his way, slicing the bow in half. Marv then drop kicked him into a cop's face. I dropped a few flash-grenades and a smoke bomb. It was enough to stun the few crowd members that were still conscious.

"That works," Marv said, "I know a place we can lay low for a little while."

I decided to follow him to a nearby factory that was apparently condemned. The chaos faded behind us as the cops finished up. I left Croc behind. I knew that I could eventually take care of that problem. For the moment, I was setting my sights on Marv.


	9. A Heated Argument

Never would've thought I'd meet the guy, myself. I'm not the sort of guy who really looks up to other people and he wasn't any sort of exception. Matter of fact, I think the guy's outfit looked kinda fruity. Still and all, he handled things pretty well with Croc, the cops, and the gang. He seemed alright at first, even if he did act like he had a bug up his ass.

Things were heating up outside, so me and Bats decided to take off to a nearby factory. It was condemned and scheduled for demolition, so I knew it was the perfect place to lay low for a second. He followed me up to the top floor where we could see the cops hauling Croc into a truck along with their wounded and whatever thugs were left lying around. Bats seemed pretty steamed all of a sudden, for some reason.

"Now that that's over," he told me, "You need to give me your gun."

"What? Hell no!"

"I'm not giving you any options."

I don't know what his problem was. He had a thing against guns, I guess. I rub people the wrong away a lot too. I'm not exactly charming or easy to look at. Even still, I just helped the guy take down one of his enemies. What was his problem? Then I got to remembering. Y'see, I got this condition. I get confused sometimes. I began to remember that he asked me for my gun before all hell broke loose outside. He even stopped me from putting a bullet in Croc's head. He probably thought I was dangerous or something. Maybe he was right or maybe not. Either way, I guess the guy had some issues. Someone who dresses like that is bound to, I guess. I can't judge nobody since I have a few of my own. Like I said, I got this condition.

Anyway, he asks me for Gladys. I don't like taking orders from nobody. I sure as Hell wasn't gonna be giving Gladys up that easily. We been through too much together for me to hand her over because some jerk in a costume told me to. I let him know he could go screw himself. We paced around the room, eyeing each other until he eventually stepped in front of a big window. He began to reach behind him, probably about to grab one of the toys in that belt of his. That's when I jumped 'im. Tackled him straight through the window. He probably didn't know how fast I could be, especially when I'm good and pissed off like I was then.

The glass gave way and we fell toward the rooftops below. Bats reached into his belt and pulled out some kind of gun with a hook on it. Grappling hook, I guess they call `im. He launched it under my arm and it snagged on to something above us. The cable line became taught and we were jerked back up for a second before lowering back down, taking a nice swing over the roofs. Bats kicked me off and I fell a few feet onto the roof below.

He landed in front of me, "It doesn't have to be like this"

"You're right," I said and came after him again.

He grabbed my arm and threw me over his shoulder. I fell onto the skylight and the glass shattered on impact. Turned out it was an apartment building. I landed in a hallway with a staircase and banister beside me. The guy was good. Damn good. I decided to be smart about it. At least, as smart as I get. I played possum a little and went limp. Bats came down a few seconds later and started to check up on me. That's when I shot up, giving him a good punch to the chin. He was knocked off his feet and almost went down the stairs, but he caught himself. I gotta hand it to him. Not too many people would still be standing after a punch like that. He got back up, but I bum-rushed him, smashing his back through the banister and down the stairwell. We fell again, but this time, Bats flipped me around while we were both in the air. He landed on top of me a few floors down and rolled off.

I grabbed a chunk of the banister and swung it around like a bat. He ducked under it and stepped back to avoid getting clubbed over the head. He snaps the thing in half and gave me a good kick in the chest. I went through the front door and spilled out onto the sidewalk. We squared off outside and that's when he really started to pour on the speed.

He jumped up and gave me a sharp kick to the side of the head. I took a swing, but he dipped under it, giving me two blows to either side of my ribs. He could've broken a normal guy's ribcage with his punches, but I let him know I wasn't going down that easily. I jumped up, trying to kick him in the face, but he flipped me onto my back. I sprang back up and got another kick to the face. I was getting mad, but I was far from out. I grabbed him, but I think he was anticipating it. He was wanting me to get in close, because next thing I know, he's clamping down on my neck. I was thinking to myself, "Why the hell is this guy pinching me?" Next thing I know, the lights are out. He didn't have to hit me. He just had to touch the right nerve and I was floored.

Jerk.

I woke up a little while later and my head was spinning. Chasity was there, though. I'm glad she avoided getting herself killed. A lot of the other locals had gathered around at this point too, stepping out of their shops and apartments. Chasity was up in Batman's face, giving him what-for. "This guy saved our lives," she shouted as she pointed to me, "If you're such a damn hero, why the hell are you bothering him and not someone like Wallenquist or that Joker psycho who's supposed to be out there somewhere?" He didn't say anything. He seemed pretty disgusted that people respected me in the Projects. I guess he couldn't be bothered with bringing me in or maybe he thought Chasity had a point. He really did have mor eimportant things to do than waste time kicking my head in. I dunno. At any rate, he left and never got my gun. In fact, one of the shop keepers handed Gladys to me after he left. Apparently, it fell out of my coat while we were fighting and the locals were hiding it from Bats.

Chasity helped me up. "Thanks for everything," she told me. One of the locals warned me that the cops were still hanging around somewhere, so I left the neighborhood. I guess I did some good that day. I lost my fight with Batman, but at least he didn't give me any serious grief. Not used to this much luck. Think I'll go for a drink. Hell, with the way things are turning out, maybe I'll even meet a nice girl. Yeah, wouldn't that be something?


	10. Nothing in This Town is Ever Easy

"Here ya go, Wallace," Kora said as she sat the plate of spaghetti in front of me, "On the house".

I ate at Vinnie's Italian restaurant every week. The food was great, price was reasonable, and the place was pretty classy for a Sin City dive. Vinnie Fratelli was pushing fifty but was still a mountain of muscle. His daughter Kora, was a cute twenty-something girl with aspirations of becoming a singer. Her mother died in childbirth and all she had was her father and the restaurant. Vinnie was planning on closing shop and moving out. I didn't ask why but I knew it was because of the city. It slowly kills you. It destroys every shred of hope you might have the longer you live inside of its city limits. They were running away and that night, I found out exactly what it was.

Two thugs strolled through the front door as if they were expecting a fight. One was tall and had a shaved head. The other was short and fat. That feeling in my gut told me they were bad news so I listened carefully but pretended that I was focusing more on my spaghetti. Vinnie's eyes went wide as he hurried Kora into the kitchen, then turned back to the two men once she was out of earshot.

"What can I do for you fellas?," he asked.

The taller one grabbed Vinnie by the collar, "Don Magliozzi needs to talk to you, Vinnie."

"I'm out. I told you guys that," Vinnie was getting serious, but he was not willing to fight back. Something in his eyes told me that he had seen plenty of violence in his life and he was sick of it (a sentiment that I can relate to). There was probably a time when he would've stomped both of them into mudholes and there was a chance he still could but those days were long gone one way or another. The short one reached into his jacket and pulled a very large skinning knife, indicating that the polite part of the conversation was nearing an end.

Against my better judgment, I slipped in quietly and took the knife before taking him down with a punch to his jugular. The other one spun around, pulling the gun from his jacket. My kick sent him flailing over the counter and he was finished. The short one was coughing and scrambling for his knife, cursing me in Latin between each gasp for air. I gave him another punch to the back of his skull and he was quiet after that.

"Geez, Wallace," Vinnie groaned, "You don't wanna get involved in this."

"I don't have much of a choice anymore," I told him, "What's going on here?"

"I used to be an enforcer for the Magliozzi family. Long time ago. Before Kora was born. Right now, they're having some sort of trouble so they're trying to get all the help they can find. Since I used to be a valuable member of the family, they want to bring me back in. Obviously, they're not willing to take no for an answer. Whatever it is, it must be big."

"When are you leaving town?"

"In two weeks."

"Try to make it one. I'll see what I can do to get them off your back."

"Don't get yourself killed, Wallace."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

Don Magliozzi lived in Sacred Oaks. It's the wealthiest and cleanest section of the city. Clean, only in the sense of sanitation. In reality, it's the filthiest part. Every mafioso and corrupt politician in Sin City lives in that area, forming an incestuous cesspool of death and destruction. The stench of blood always hung in the air somehow even though they did their dirty work elsewhere. The Don's mansion was heavily guardedso I snuck over the gate and past the front guards (I decided to play it quiet). I climbed up the back and slid into the window. I chloroformed the guard there and continued down the hall. Another guard was stationed by the bedroom and saw me for a split-second as I rounded the corner. A sharp heel thrust to the forehead took care of the problem.

Don Magliozzi woke up a few moments later with a silenced beretta 92F staring him in the face. I placed my finger against my lips and he was smart enough to not make a sound. He sat up in bed with me beside him. I kept him in my gaze for a few moments before I began.

"I have no interest in killing you, sir," I explained, "But your men have been harassing a friend of mine and I would appreciate it if you left him alone."

"Who the Hell are you?"

"That's not important. I want to know what business you have with Vinnie Fratelli."

"It should be no conern to you, stranger."

"I'd hate to cause any harm to you or anyone here but if I must, I will."

"Fine. One of those barbarians from Gotham is attacking my family. He calls himself Two Face. He's trying to get into Herr Wallenquist's good graces and create an alliance. My organization is one of the few families that pose a threat to Wallenquist's business. He's not one to get into a mob war unless it's completely beneficial, but at the same time, Two Face's actions would be appreciated. Eliminating me would place him in Wallenquist's favor."

"I'll make you a deal. If I were to Two Face down myself, would you leave Vinnie and his daughter alone?"

"Consider it done."

"Fine."

"And I suppose you'd like to be paid for your assistance?"

"Keep your blood money," with that, I left.


	11. Sacred Oaks

The agents had Killer Croc in a cell in Arkham a few days later. As for Marv, I had no time to waste with him. That girl, Chasity, had some warped sense of respect for the psycho. She was the one who contacted Marv to deal with Croc. She seemed to care about the wellbeing of the innocent, though. There needs to be more people like Chasity in Basin City, even if she does idolize a dangerous sociopath.

Next, I turned my sights on to Two-Face. Joker was still silent,Riddler was keeping his promise for the moment, and Ivy wouldn't be the type to fully immerse herself in the underbelly of the city. Not right away, at least. Two-Face was the most logical targetand since he was apparently trying to ally himself with the mob boss Herr Walenquist, he needed to be dealt with quickly. Finding him was not hard. There was a mansion on the outskirts of Sacred Oaks that had been the battleground of a previous mob war which ended with the detonation of a briefcase filled with explosives. Half of the mansion was bombed out, scarred, and ugly. The other half looked untouched. No one cared to demolish it so there it stood. The dual nature of the architecture fit Dent's MO perfectly.

I sat on the rooftop that overlooked the mansion, spying through a pair of binoculars. I couldn't see much of what was going on inside but I saw Two-Face passing through the hallways. I at least found him. What was more interesting was the person perched on the other side of the house, apparently spying on Dent as well. He was approaching middle-age, long hair, beard, dressed all in black. He lowered his binoculars once he realized that I was watching him. I fired a line to his perch and swung across. He was calm, politely stepping aside and giving me plenty of room as I landed.

"Who are you?," was my first question. I was in no mood to meet up with anymore citizens of Basin.

"My name is Wallace, sir," he answered, "I'm not causing any harm if that's why you're…"

"I notice you have a gun holstered under your arm."

"Good observation," there was a touch of disrespect for authority in his voice, which I did not like, "I **do** have a license for it, sir. I'm a former Seal."

"What business do you have here?"

"Personal matter. It's not the sort of business I want to be involved in but I have little choice. There are people who are trying to harm friends of mine. This person is the cause of that so I asked a few questions here and there and tracked him down."

"You have no idea who you're up against."

"This is why I'm gathering information."

He seemed more competent than McCarthy and wasn't insane like Marv, at least. I thought about asking him to leave and taking care of things myself but I didn't think he'd listen; I didn't want someone getting in my way. At the same time, I knew I couldn't let him out of my sights in case he started shooting up the place. Keeping an eye on him made the most sense. It would be another alliance, I was afraid, although a slightly easier one.

"Do you want to of assistance?," I muttered.

"It's why I'm here, sir."

"Then I'm in charge. You do as I say. Understood?"

"I'm sorry, but I do not like being given orders from people I don't know."

"First, no guns," I continued, ignoring his response.

"I can't make that promise, considering I don't have a utility belt."

"You say you were a Navy Seal. I'm sure you're skilled in various forms of combat."

"I am."

"Non-lethal forms?"

"Yes."

"I suggest you employ them."

"I do not enjoy taking lives, sir. It's not something I look forward to doing."

"Then we're in agreement."

"Fine. What can you tell me about this Two-Face person?"

I gave him a brief rundown. I told him about Harvey Dent, the district attorney. I told him about his disfigurement and eventual lapse into insanity and crime. Then I told him about Harvey's MO and typical strategies. As I said, he was competent. Everything seemed to be taken into consideration and he told me about the crime family called the Magliozzis so at least I was dealing with someone who wasn't an amateur. We made our plan.


	12. The Trump Card

We worked out our plan. There was a beatup van and a nice `66 Impala in front of Two Face's hideout. We needed a distraction to bring them out so I decided to blow the van (I couldn't bring myself to destroy that cherry Impala). Batman supplied the explosives and I went to work. The plastique went off under the fuel tank and the entire thing went up in a giant fireball, hovering weightless in the air for a second before crashing back to Earth. A few moments later, Two Face came racing out along with a dozen thugs. Two-Face's right side was normal, clean-shaven, and had hair neatly slicked back. The other half was mutilated, red, with shaggy grey hair and an eye that looked like a hardboiled egg. He held a tommy gun in his hand, which led me to believe that he preferred close-range combat as opposed to long distance accuracy.

They watched the van burn away. "This was a warning. It must've been the Magliozzis," he shouted, "Didn't think they'd be dumb enough to do this." He pulled a coin from his pocket and flipped it before catching it and turning it over, exposing a scarred face. "Search the place," he commanded and his goons went to work. The fun part was beginning so the two of us split up.

I went around back, sticking to the shadows. Three guys with guns were heading due East. I raced behind them and brought both heels against the bases of their skulls. I rolled along the grass as the other one spun around. I came up, shoving my knee into his chin, taking him out. I peered around the opposite end of the house and saw that a lone gunman was looking around nervously. Suddenly, he was pulled into the shadows and I could hear a muffled grunt. Batman was doing his job nicely. I slipped back into a section of the house that had been blown by a bomb, hiding under a bunch of wood and metal. Soon, one of the thugs came nosing around. I brought my fist down on the nerve-cluster in his neck and pulled him out of sight. Not long after that, his friend came around looking for him. I stepped out of the shadows and took him down just as easily. I moved to the front of the house and could see more of Batman's handiwork. A few more goons had been taken down but this time, left out in the open for Two Face to see. There were only two more thugs left besides Dent himself. He angrily flipped his coin and caught it, looking at the other side. Batman joined me and we watched him carefully, hoping that he'd take the bait.

"Hey, Deadshot," he called.

Soon, a man stepped out wearing a red costume under a trench coat and white mask. He had a target sight on his left side and gauntlets around his wrists. Batman whispered to me, "That must be Two-Face's trump card: Deadshot. He's a deadly assassin and a crackshot with those wrist-mounted guns. Be careful." Things were heating up now but Two Face still didn't disappoint.

"We're going to take the fight right to those bastards' doorstep," he went to the Impala, followed by his last two goombas and Deadshot. He took the bait after all. Batman and I went to our cars, which were parked nearby. He jumped in his Porsche. I hopped into my LeSabre convertible.

Two Face was racing to Don Magliozzi himself and I tailed behind them. Batman took a short-cut down another street. Apparently, they soon realized I was tracking them, which was exactly what we wanted. One of the thugs leaned out the back window with a machine gun. He opened fire and I began to zigzag back and forth across the street as we reached about 80 mph. The bullets ricocheted against the ground and street lamps. I hit the gas and slammed into their back bumper, jolting them enough that the thug dropped his gun as he hit the windowsill. I stomped on the break and spun-out behind them, making them take a sharp U-turn, nearly hitting on-coming traffic.

I took off down a street and quickly fish-tailed around the corner. I led them down a narrow alley and they followed, sending a trash can into the air. I looked into my rearview just in time to see Deadshot poke his arm out. There was a brief flash over his fist and the mirror was shot off. I lost sight of them but it didn't matter. I knew they were behind me and that was exactly where I needed them to be. I bolted across a busy street as other cars slammed on their brakes. I then cruised down a side-street and began to slow down. The moment they came onto the street, Batman pulled out of an alley and parked his car across the street to block one side. I then spun my LeSabre around, blocking the other end. We had those bastards locked in.

Two Face, Deadshot, and the two thugs came out, ready for a fight. Batman threw some kind of bat-shaped projectile, which took out the first thug. The other thug trained his gun on me but I jumped into the air, bringing my foot against his jaw before he fired a single bullet. I then rolled along the pavement as Two Face began to open fire. Batman ran forward and Dent quickly darted down an alley, "I should've known it was you!," he growled as Bats chased him down. Deadshot jumped onto the roof of the Impala, taking aim at Batman's back.

I pulled my silenced 92F out of its holster and took a shot. The bullet hit the top part of his gauntlet, destroying one of his guns. "Dammit!," he shouted and spun around with his other arm, firing another shot at me. I ducked for cover but the bullet still ripped through the meat just above my clavicle. It hurt like hell but I ignored the pain, rolling along the ground as another shot hit the wall behind me. "You wanna get it first, hippie? That's fine by me," he said, "I'll probably get paid extra for this." I slid toward the bottom of the Impala, out of sight. "You're just making this harder on yourself," he said and jumped off the roof. Just what I planned for.

When he landed, I took two more shots at his ankles. The bullets found their marks and took two chunks out, making him fall to the ground. He wasn't going down easily, though. He rolled onto his back with his remaining weapon and took aim. I jumped into the air, sweeping my foot across his wrist. The momentum carried me further, spinning me around and I brought my other foot down across his face. He was smashed into the pavement, snapping his sight in half. He seemed to be out cold, but to make sure, I took his second gauntlet. In the alley nearby, I could hear the conflict between Two Face and Batman resolving itself. I waited for a moment with my gun raised, waiting to see who would be coming out.


	13. Duality

I followed Two-Face into an alley while Wallace dealt with Deadshot. Every time I have faced him, I've become almost as conflicted as Dent. He was once a good man. I've tried to cure him in the past but nothing seemed to work. At this point, it seemed to be my lot in life.

When Two-Face rounded the corner, he spun around, unloading a spray of bullets. I somersaulted out of the way as chunks of hot granite and brick flew up into my face. I was reminded how the heat in the city was rising even though it was deathly cold not long before. The alley was divided by a chain link fence. Once I threw a batarang and took his tommy gun, Dent made a run for the fence, scrambling up to the top. I raced to him and grabbed his ankle. He gave me a few kicks and shook free, finally toppling over the side. When he stood up, he pulled a revolver from his jacket. He took aim right between my eyes.

"Did you ever think it'd end like this?," he asked as he took his coin out of his pocket, "Dying in some filthy alley in a god forsaken city?... Well, a god forsaken city other than Gotham anyway?"

He flipped the coin. I stepped back and dropped an acid capsule on the fence. The acid burned away, giving me both the physical and psychological edge I needed. Dent blinked and dropped his coin. By the time he fumbled through the garbage below and got it back, there was already a decent hole in the fence. I made my move and pulled his arm through the hole, giving his forearm a twist, followed by a knee to his elbow. He dropped the gun and tried to get away. I placed both hands on the lapels of his jacket and pulled him completely through the fence. A few punches were enough to subdue him.

I carried him out of the alley and found Wallace training his gun in my direction. When he realized it was me, he lowered it. I took a glanceat Deadshot. He was unconscious but had two bullet wounds in his ankles. They weren't serious wounds but the fact that they were made by bullets did not sit well with me.

"I told you no guns"

"And I told you I couldn't make that promise," he retorted, "Although I did promise not to kill anyone. He's still alive."

We exchanged glares but any further conflict would've been pointless. We got our man. I contacted Gordon's federal agents while Wallace called his friends and told them they didn't have to worry about the Magliozzis. As Two-Face was being placed in the back of the federal agents' truck, he turned to me and, for a second, I could see Harvey Dent. Two-Face was nowhere to be found.

"In the end, I actually did this town a favor," he explained, "I was going after one of the biggest crime families in Sin City. Even a guy like me can make some difference here, right? It's the only amount of hope this place has." I didn't respond, but a part of me knew he was right. I couldn't go after families like the Magliozzis or Wallenquist's organization. They were too big and had too many pockets. The Roarkes seemed even more difficult to take down. It would take at least a year to bring them down and I didn't have that time. All I could do was capture my own enemies and send them back to Arkham. And for what? For them to escape again? Was I any more effective in Gotham?

Wallace and I shook hands silently before he drove away. As I made my way back to my Porsche, I saw a familiar face. It was Chasity, from the Projects. She looked different this time. She was wearing a short skirt and lowcut top with a tired face caked with make up. She stood on the street corner. It was obvious what she was doing. In Sin City… I mean Basin, it was far too common. We locked eyes but didn't say anything. The conversation passed between our glances.

_"What are you doing?"_

_"What I need to do to survive here."_

_"It doesn't have to be this way."_

_"I lost everything when my brother died. It's all I have left. I was one of the few people in this city that cares and this is what my life has become. This is what happens to people if they care too much here."_

I moved on, leaving Chasity behind me. I was really beginning to wonder what sort of good I was doing in that place. Or anywhere for that matter. As I drove, I turned on the air conditioner. It was getting hotter.


	14. Call Her Blue Eyes

My name's Deliah.

You can call me Blue Eyes.

It wasn't too long after I graduated from the Guild that I got the Batman Job. My client actually wanted to have the honor of killing him personally. I was just supposed to capture him. The Colonel didn't mind much even if it wasn't exactly what the Guild does. Bats had been pissing a lot of people off all over town, including the Colonel himself. Had something to do with the snuff film business. He wanted him gone. So anyways, I got the job.

My plan was to draw him out, first. I had Gordo carry one of those big spotlights off the police station roof. They weren't using it to contact Bats much outside of the one time but they were still up there. They wouldn't miss it if I took just one. Gordo hooked it up to a portable generator down the block and stuffed it in an alley. Meanwhile, I had Maxine whip up a nice sedative that would be strong enough to put an ox to sleep. The fun part was all mine.

I found some poor sap in a local bar. I wore my best blue dress which brought out my eyes as well as other assets. He was buying me drinks after a few words and a sharp glance. It wasn't long before he wanted us to leave the dump and I didn't blame him one bit. We didn't walk far before I pulled him into a back alley and made it look like it was in a moment of passion. The poor schmuck probably thought he was gonna have the ride of his life. Gordo didn't do a great job of hiding the spotlight but considering how drunk the guy was at the time and how much his attention was on me, it didn't matter. I hiked up my dress and slid the straps off my shoulders, allowing him to feel my perfect, naked breasts. It was the last bit of pleasure he had before I snapped his neck. I pulled him to the side, propped him against the wall, and got my knife. I don't normally slice my targets up like this but it needed to look authentic; like a certain clownish lunatic was finally coming out of his hiding place. I carved a nasty little grin across his face with one, clean swipe. It was a shame, really. He was cute.

Then I flipped on the spotlight, poured on the tears, and waited. Sure enough, Bats showed up. I was a bit nervous at first. He was supposed to be pretty crazy. I heard a rumor that he finally cracked and killed some mugger in an alley but I wasn't sure how true that was. Anyway, when he stepped out of the shadows and I got a good look at that body in that skin tight suit, my knees were weak for a completely different reason. I wrapped my arms around him and did my best sobbing act, allowing him to feel my body press against his. Of course, I enjoyed every moment of it even if he didn't. Hey, can't blame a girl for taking an interest, even if it is a job.

"Oh, thank God you're here!," the act was pretty convincing. Seriously, I should've won an Oscar for this performance, "That psycho,... he just killed Richie and set this thing up. He... He said he wanted me to contact you. It's the Joker. Oh God... he killed Richie!"

He didn't say anything; he simply moved to the body, shinning a flashlight on it. I was a little annoyed about that, really. The guy didn't even take a second to check out the goods. He seemed mor einterested in the dead dude than me. Oh well. I think he was beginning to suspect something was up, judging by the way he looked at the body's face. Not that it mattered. Once his back was turned and he was looking over the dead guy in the alley, I pulled the needle from my purse and shoved it into his neck. He spun around, ripping the syringe out as he grabbed my wrist tightly. It made me gasp... but not for the reasons you might expect.

"What did you put in me?," he growled.

"I gotta get Maxine to make that stuff stronger," I said and put my stilleto heel into the side of his leg.

He gave me a good backhand and we both fell. He struggled to get back up, indicating the drug was beginning to take its toll. His words were slurred as he threatened me uselessly. I gave him a swift kick to the chops. It threw him on his back where he stayed put. I straddled him while he lay helpless, then took the opportunity to give him a kiss goodnight before he went completely under.

I hauled him into the trunk of my Mercedes and drove out of Sin City a little ways. The greenhouse was a few miles outside the city. A pretty far drive, actually. It was beginning to rain; an indication that Winter was over and we were headed for a few wet days before the heat got worse. I hate Sin City rain. The stuff is like syrup when it comes down, all thick and sticky. I finally got to my client's place and dropped him on the floor of the greenhouse.

"Not bad," Poison Ivy said as she gazed at his unconscious body, "Your employer was right to recommend you."

"No problem," I told her, "I just wish you would've given me the opportunity to at least seduce him. Kill him maybe."

"You wouldn't have succeeded in doing either."

"Don't be so sure."

She paid me and I took off, leaving Bats at her mercy. The rain was really beginning to come down. Seriously, I hate the stuff. My car sloshed its way down the road, the greenhouse disappearing behind me. Before long, it was practically coming down in a solid sheet of water. Wouldn't want to be caught in it.


	15. In Deep

I woke up to the sound of echoing water. Thick, fat drops were pouring down my mask. I felt a cold, wet sensation around my knees. I didn't even have to open my eyes to know that I was standing in a deep pool of water. By the moonlight, I could tell that I was in an old, stone well about twelve feet deep. My arms were suspended by large vines which were wrapping themselves tightly around my forearms and wrists. The drug that the blue eyed woman hit me with was beginning to wear off a bit, allowing me to feel the pain in my right leg. That stiletto heel gave me a nasty gash. I looked up, seeing Poison Ivy standing above.

"So it looks like I'll be the one to claim your demise," she said, her red lips spreading madly, "With the way this rain's coming down, you'll be under soon. This is the best way to kill you while preserving your body. It'll give me quite a bit of respect here, as well as in Gotham, so I'll need to verify it as much as possible."

"You're not one to care about associating with mobsters, Ivy," I began without really reacting to her, "Rumor has it that you've been talking to Damien and Ava Lord, trying to get into their good graces. Let me guess, getting in good with them would give you the financial backing and legal protection to carry out your eco-terrorism?"

"If you want to call liberation eco-terrorism, then yes. Sometimes, it involves shaking hands with the devil," she seemed a bit annoyed, "Of course, some fool named Dwight McCarthy ruined my plans by killing both Damien and Ava. Still and all, when I parade your body around, I'm sure it'll get the attention of all the major players in the city. Maybe even a Roarke or two. You definetely know how to piss people off, don't you?," she leaned in closer, "And don't think that I am only thinking about my profession here. I'm killing you with as much animosity as you'd expect from me. Ciao."

She blew me a kiss and left, allowing the rain to come down and eventually drown me. The vines were thick. My head was still spinning slightly due to the drug and the gash in my leg wasn't making things any easier. Still, I came to this city prepared to meet up with Ivy just as much as the others. She was one of my last targets so I made sure that I wasn't empty handed. Hidden under my gloves were twin containers of a highly potent herbicide, complete with a nozzle and trigger system. I pressed my fingers onto my palms and snapped my wrists back, releasing two squirts of the substances onto the vines that held me. The rain worked to my advantage since it began to run the chemicals down the lengths of the vines. They began to wither and die almost immediately. I continued to pour it on, eventually empting both containers. The herbicide finally ate its way through them, releasing their grip. I jerked my arms free the rest of the way and began to climb up the stone well. The rain made it slippery so I used some razor-batarangs to pull myself up. My leg was throbbing from the cut, though, so every step was difficult. The gash was deeper than I realized. I found out when I put a little too much weight on my foot and felt the pain shoot up through my thigh. My reaction combined with the wet wall, I slipped and almost fell in the water. I held on to a single batarang and pulled myself up, fighting through the pain.

Gradually, I brought myself topside, falling onto wet grass and mud. The rain suddenly let up a few moments later. I took it as a good sign. Ivy's 1970 Ferrari 365 GT was nearby and I could see her inside the greenhouse, tending to her plants. I hot wired the car, reving the engine and feeling the vibrations of a souped up V8. I hit the gas and sent the car smashing through the glass wall, sending shards and pots flying. She wheeled around with gritted teeth and a handful of darts, filled with some unknown toxins. She put a few holes through the windshield when she threw them, putting more muscle behind the throw than I was expecting. I flung the door open and rolled out, feeling pain in my leg once again. It made me a bit clumsy and I soon found myself with a thorny vine around my one good leg. I fell onto my back, the sudden movements making it tighten while inch long thorns found their way deeper into my thigh. I no longer had the herbicide but I did have a small flame thrower in my belt. I blasted the thing, watching it shrivel into ash. Just to make sure, I turned the flames onto the rows of plants on either side. Both of my legs were bledding by this point so I knew I would be slower. I stood up as much as possible, unleashing a wall of butain a second before the entire place went up.

"NO!," Ivy snarled angrily as she lunged toward me. As mentioned, the wounds in my legs made me a lot slower than normal. She slammed into me, forcing me back. I used her momentum, carrying both of us inside the Ferarri; then I threw the car into reverse as I shoved her into the passenger's seat. We sped out backwards, bringing down more glass as flames roared around us. I spun the car around through wet grass, eventually finding a gravel road. Meanwhile, the greenhouse was coming down in the rear view mirror.

Ivy was able to shove past my free hand, attempting to slash me with her nails, which were more than likely covered in toxin but I didn't give her the pleasure. I grabbed her by the back of her hair as I drove down the road, smashing her face into the steering wheel. I slammed the driver's door shut and pulled over. I handcuffed Ivy to the steering column, wrapped a rag around her mouth (more toxin prevention) and then called the federal agents.

I bandaged my legs the next morning. It would take a good part of a day to heal, which was annoying. I decided to get some excercise and go for a walk, putting on my Bruce Wayne disguise. Sin City during the day is just as bleak as it is at night. You can clearly see the dirt and filth on every street. The large puddles of water from the rain mixed with trash and created a sick stench in the air. I ignored it the best I could and eventually, I came across a newspaper stand where I picked up a copy. Dwight McCarthy was indeed somehow involved in the murders of both Damien and Ava Lord and was a wanted man. Another article was about Marv, who had killed Cardinal Roarke, among others. He was now on deathrow. Those that were killed by these men were apparently criminals but was this the only way this city could deal with them? Through death and the perversion of law? After that, I noticed another article, _"Has the Batman Finally Flipped?". _I decided to read, expecting a simple smear campaign paid for by corrupt politicians and mobsters who didn't want me around for obvius reasons. I wish that were the case. Apparently, there was a mugger that, according to one witness, was stopped by Batman. I didn't remember stopping any muggings but that wasn't what concered me most. I had apparently nearly beaten the man to death before dumping gasoline on him and lighting a match. The police were conducting a manhunt for me with extreme prejudice.

Obviously, something wasn't right.


	16. The Precinct

Life ain't easy being a high-ranking cop in Sin City. First of all, I have to keep certain people happy. That includes turning my back at times or taking a little on the side. Don't even try to judge me until you been in my shoes. I'm a Lieutenant. I had to work my ass off to get where I am and I got mouths to feed on top of that. Secondly, I'm supposed to establish some kind of law and order in the worst frigg'n city in the world. That just ain't gonna happen. For instance, not too long after Batman showed up to take down some of his old pals, I had a manhunt for Dwight McCarthy. Then, there came a report that Bats had finally gone, well, batshit insane. It was bad enough that we all knew we'd be screwed if he nosed around the department too much but then we start hearing that he lost it.

Turns out, some dame was walking home late one night. A mugger yanked her into an alley and flicked a switchblade in her face. As you'd expect, the Batman dropped down and did his thing. The thing of it was, he didn't just stop at giving the mugger a few punches. He unloaded on the guy according to the woman. Beat him mercilessly until the man's face was swollen and purple. When he stopped, the mugger was broken and bleeding on the ground, begging for his life. That was when Batman reportedly reached behind his cape and pulled out a can of gasoline. The woman was too scared to run and the guy was in no shape to do much of anything. He poured it on the poor sonuvabitch and tossed the can aside. After that, he smiled, lit a match, and dropped it. Bats came to the department not too long after he got here because of some creep calling himself the Riddler. I didn't like dealing with him and even sent some of my boys to keep tabs on him in the Projects. He didn't seem that far gone but he still made me nervous as Hell even then. I had no idea what to expect so we had a manhunt on our hands soon after the mugging incident.

Then one night, I'm in my office and the security alarm goes off. About the same time, I start hearing gunshots coming from the floor below me. I snagged my model 649 Snub Nose and slid some .38 rounds into the cylinder, giving it a spin before snaping it into frame. I made my way to the stairs, meeting a few of my boys, Manson and Bundy, along the way. They already had their riot gear and M4 automatics. As we ran down the stairs, we could hear the gunfire escalate along with the screams of our men and women. We ran to the main area, seeing a pile of dead bodies and spent shells. They had mostly been killed by physical trauma as most as we could tell. It was an unholy mess. We turned the corner just in time to see an officer get flung into the wall, leaving a bloody smear before going ragdoll.

There he was: the Batman.

Or at least it looked like him.

We realized pretty quick that it wasn't the real deal. A black rag had been tied around his face in a bandana with two eye holes poked out and some wiring to prop it up a little like bat ears. His cape was a bunch of trash bags and black shreds of clothing stitched together. His uniform was the kicker. He was wearing a cop uniform, complete with a kevlar vest that had a crude bat symbol spray painted on the front. This was apparently the psycho that killed the mugger.

He picked up one of the cadets and broke his spine over his knee like a twig. Detective Rafferty popped up from behind a desk with a pump action shotgun. The kevlar had already been shot to Hell by gunfire before we got there apparently, and the 22-gauge was the last straw. When it went off, it blasted the cape in half and the kevlar was peeled away in a big chunk along with a gallon of blood. He spun around and fell to his knees, giving me an opportunity. The Snub Nose is pretty useless at a distance, but up close, it works wonders. I pumped five more slugs into his back, thinking it would bring him down. Instead, he stood right up, giving me a look like I was next so I backed away real quick. He jumped into the air, clearing the length of the room pretty easily. Manson and Bundy unloaded on him with their automatics. What was left of the kevlar was tossed across the room and he spun around like a top, leaving several trails of blood as each bullet put a hole straight through him until he hit the opposite wall and slumped down.

I tore off the mask and saw Officer Kenneth Anderson staring up at me. He used to be a SWAT member but was bumped down to beat cop when some of us at the station didn't like the way he kept his nose clean. We didn't want another John Hartigan so we took him down a few pegs. That way, he couldn't cause any problems. He had disappeared a few days earlier. I hated to admit it but I knew this would be something Batman needed to know about. If anything, bringing him in close to this one case might put him off any scents he got around town that might've led to us. One of the spotlights had been stolen off the roof but we still had a few more, so we fired them up.

"What do you want, Liebotwitz?," was the first thing he said.

"I got a guy in the morgue that needs your attention," I told him, "Don't rush, though. I don't think he's going anywhere."

I sat by quietly as Bats studied Anderson. He had apparently been pretty interested in the case. Guess he reads the papers. He deduced that he was injected by some kind of serum that was similar to the drug, Venom. It increased a person's strength and agression but also triggered the part of the brain where a person stores their moral impulses. Basically, someone made a steroid-freak superhero and dressed him up like Bats. Sick joke.

"This man was an officer?," he asked, "He wouldn't have a reason to have strong moral feelings toward the precinct, would he?"

"Screw you!," I told him, "You got what you needed!"

The guy just stared at me. Thought he was gonna paste me one. Instead, he turns around and leaves the morgue. Don't know who the Hell he thought he was! It's like I said. You just can't judge me unless you been in my shoes. Anyway, I know he'll be out of the city soon. I just saw a big billboard close to the station with all these question marks and stuff. Had some kind of riddle on it. Probably the work of that Riddler creep. After him, the only one left is the Joker. Then Batman will leave town and good riddence, I say.


	17. Settling the Score

Obviously, the Joker was coming out to play. He would be the only one capable of creating the sort of serum found in Anderson's bloodstream. Without Lebowitz seeing me, I got a DNA sample. This was just the beginning and I would need to study it to make a cure for the future. Around that time, I had other matters to attend to, though.

I followed the clue Riddler left on his billboard, leading me to Sin City Harbor at midnight. It was dark with only the light of a few warehouses and the reflection of the water illuminating it. There was a maze of crates surrounding me with muddy water on either side. Riddler had made good on his promise and hadn't done anything since escaping as far as I knew. I was still careful, despite this. Riddler stood at the end of a pier with a black suit, his green domino mask, and a green tie with a single black question mark on it.

"Hello, Bats," he greeted me.

"I took care of your competition, Nigma," I moved cautiously forward, "Croc, Two-Face, and Ivy have all been put away. It's time for you to join them."

"I promised not to commit any crimes this entire time, right?"

"That's what you told me, yes."

"And I plan on keeping that promise!"

I felt someone grab the end of my cape, jerking me off the ground with ease. I hit some crates and when I looked up, I saw a massive, lumbering man in a cheuffer outfit with a fake eye. "This is Manute," Riddler explained, "He works for Herr Walenquist. As you know, I've been discussing certain plans with Walenquist. He, along with many other fine citizens of Sin City would love nothing more than to see you killed in the worst way possible. I decided to give them that opportunity. Like I said, I won't commit a crime, but I made no promises about allowing others to do so."

"If you're through prattling, Mr. Nigma," Manute began in a monotone voice, "I would like to finish my task."

"Be my guest."

He charged forward so I judo-tossed him over the crates. I noticed two more figures coming at either side from the shadows. "Looks like it's up to us, darl'n," one of them said in a thick Irish accent. "Job of a lifetime," the female answered. They wore military fatigues. Mercenaries, more than likely. Possibly IRA? I rolled back as one of them threw a grenade that tore a hole through the pier. Before the smoke fully settled, the woman opened fire with twin uzis. I ducked around some crates, coming up behind her before bringing her down with a leg sweep. Once she hit the ground, I took her out.

Manute launched himself over the crates, threatening to tackle me. I stepped back, allowing him to smash through the wood and packaging. "Impressive, but your acrobatics only delay the inevitable," he said as he took a swing at me. I ducked, hitting him in the solar plexus; then I followed it up with a blow across the bridge of his nose. He threw another punch and I ducked that one just as easily, bringing my heel against the nerve cluster of his neck. He was strong but it was enough to drop him to his knees.

The one with the grenades came at me from behind with a large skinning knife. I spun around, slipping the knife out of his hands before elbowing him in the temple. "Your annoyance has come to an end," Manute's movements were clumsy from the strikes I gave him but the second my attention was turned toward the second mercenary, he took advantage of the situation. I was hurled into the side of a loading crane by a hard punch. He pressed the attack, trying his best to remain on his feet, but I was in much better shape at that point. My blows were precise. I made sure to bring him down bit by bit, eventually finishing him off with a roundhouse kick to the back of his skull.

I wasn't so wrapped up in the moment that I forgot about the Riddler, though. I noticed him flipping over the crates, leap frogging from one stack to another. I quickly followed him and as I moved, I noticed that I was sprinting across an open area so I instinctively ducked and rolled as a sniper bullet put a hole through a nearby crate. There was another mercenary on the rooftops somewhere. I ignored my new assailant briefly as I made my way over the crates, witnessing Riddler racing toward an old, green, `58 Studebaker. I tossed a batarang, hitting him in the back of his knees. "Dammit!," he yelled as he hit the wood floor. I turned around to see my sniper perched on his rooftop, prepping for another shot. I somersaulted through the air in time to avoid another bullet. The explosive batarang stuck to the side of the small warehouse, just underneath my new friend. There was a brief flicker from the batarang just before it blew. The explosion tore a chunk off the corner, forcing the sniper to drop his weapon and flee the scene.

The wind kicked up with the roar of an approaching helicopter. For a second, I thought it was a police copter but it seemed far too big. I covered my eyes as the spotlight was cast, catching a glimpse of an Apache helicopter. A military helicopter shouldn't be in Sin City but then again, I shouldn't have been surprised. It rose up over the harbor with gattling guns trained in my general direction. I darted back as the chain guns rattled, ripping the crates to shreds. "Wait!," Riddler said as he raised his hands, pleadingly. Debris whipped around him as he continued, "I'm still down here!" His face then turned to the expression of a man who realized that he was much more expendable than he originally thought. The underworld of Sin City didn't value him as much as he anticipated. Or more appropriately, they wanted me dead more than they cared for his life. I flipped and somersaulted across the pier as a swathe was ripped across it. Riddler curled up in a fetal position as bullets passed overhead. The Apache shifted to the side, following me and ended up turning Riddler's car into scrap. I grabbed Nigma and pushed him toward the edge of the pier. A second later, we both splahsed into the water while debris and bullets rained down around us. I swam with Nigma kicking and jerking around while we were underwater; one hand pulling him to the surface just under the Harbor. The Apache fired another burst into the water out of frustration before flying away. I pulled Riddler onto another part of the Harbor just in case any more playmates were waiting for me back at the pier.

"I don't suppose you'll be willing to accept my peaceful surrender?," Riddler asked with a slight smile.

I think he got his answer.


	18. Marv's Last Dance

So here I am, waiting to die.

Don't mind much. Didn't have much to live for anyway. I avenged Goldie's death. I stood face-to-face with the bastards responsible and I sent them kicking and screaming straight to Hell. When they strap me into that chair, the scum who run this city will know who I was and what I did. They'll thank whatever god they pray to that I'm finally gone and I'll be laughing my ass off, knowing that. Aside from that, I don't have much in the way of entertainment.

I figured the rest of my eighteen months were gonna be pretty quiet. I should've known I wouldn't be that lucky. It wasn't even an entire week that I was on Death Row that the little psycho snuck in. I don't even know how. The pen is pretty secure most of the time. Anyway, the guards usually bring me lunch and slide it under the bars. On that day, I watched a guard unlock my cell and waltz right in. I knew instantly that something was up. I figured that the Roarke family didn't want to wait for me to be fried and decided to carry it out themselves. The guard kept his head down, his face hidden behind the shadow of his hat. He set the tray on my bed and turned to leave. I started to get that cold feeling in my gut that lets me know things ain't right.

Then the guy spun around, pulled something out of his pocket, and came right for me. I snagged his wrist and noticed that it was a syringe filled with... God only knows. I wasn't waiting around to find out what it was. He raised his head, giving me a good look at that ugly mug of his. His skin was as pale as a corpse. His lips were dark red and curled up in a sickening grin. His hair was falling down in bright green locks over a pair of crazy, wild eyes.

"Don't be afraid," the lunatic cackled, "It's only a little prick."

"I don't care what you got in your pants, pal."

He snagged the tray with his free hand, dumping hot grease in my face. I was blinded for a second and caught the edge of the metal tray across my forehead. I didn't let go for nothing. This guy was crazy enough to sneak into my cell and try to stab me so I decided to show him that I had my own brand of crazy. I grabbed for my bed sheet. I was blind but that didn't mean that I didn't have a feel for my own room. I pulled it over his head, wrapping him nice and tight. Then I tossed `im over my shoulder. I could see enough to spot the opened door of my cell. That scrawny twerp was still jerking around and I swore I heard him giggling. I gave him a good toss through my cell door, feeling a great deal of satisfaction hearing him hit the bars across the way.

I rubbed the slop from my eyes and when I could see straight, I noticed that the guy had high-tailed it out of there. Another guard suddenly showed up with a rifle in hand, "The Hell's going on here?" I knew he wouldn't believe me so I just shrugged and played dumb. He locked the door and the warden has made plans to keep me locked up in another cell with extra guards. Not that it matters to me, none.

When everything calmed down, I realized who I had dealt with: **the Joker. ** Damn. With everything happening in my life at the time, I had almost forgotten about Batman and his old dancing partners. Last I heard, Bats had gotten everyone but him. I had no idea what his plan was and that's probably for the best. Maybe it's a good thing I won't be around much longer. This town's about to get a whole helluva lot worse.


	19. Old Town

So now Ava's dead and I'm a wanted man. The surgery I got in Old Town made sure no one would recognize me. It was best that I left the neighborhood, though. Shelly said I could crash at her place for a while so that's good news. Gail was obviously upset about it, "So just like that, you're outta here, huh, Dwight?" I hated doing it to her but it was the best way to stay out of trouble and the best way to make sure no trouble came to Old Town. The area had enough to deal with. First, there were the girls who disappeared and the whole mess with Marv. Then I come blowing through town around the same time. Things were too crazy, although they were about to get worse.

The night saw three attacks in three different parts of Old Town from the creep:

The first group of thugs came right through the front gates with tires screeching and guns blazing. They tore through the main street, right into the heart of the neighborhood. Gail saw it all. The patrons all headed to safety as every girl on the block pulled their pieces. They opened fire on the two cars as they were coming through. The thugs inside were blown to bits and the girls decided to keep the cars and whatever weapons they had on them. Gail got a good look at them and said they were wearing face paint to look like mimes or some shit. With that bunch dead, there was no room for questioning, although they apparently weren't alone.

I was packing everything into the back of my caddy when I spotted the second group. Three of them had grabbed one of the girls and were trying to pull her into an alley. Like the other group of assholes, they had mime face paint. The girl cursed loudly as she tried to pull the rod from her leg holster. She managed to get my attention just before they clubbed her and dragged her away. I pulled my Colts and slid across the hood of my caddy, firing from both barrels. One of them got a few shots in his back before spinning around and taking a few more in the chest. The other two dropped the girl and headed into the alley. Like a jerk, I followed. When I came to the entrance, they had their guns already drawn.

I didn't give them the opportunity to fire. I jumped, kicking the first one in the face; we both went to the floor with me landing on his chest. The second managed to get a shot off, but it went over my head. I pressed one gun against the thug underneath me and trained my spare on the jerk down the alleyway. I pulled both triggers at the same time. The one underneath me lost his head. Point blank. The other one got a hole through his belly but he lurched like he might fire off another round, so I put another hole through his face.

It didn't end there, though. About the same time, two new girls were walking through the West end. One was named Becky and the other was a lady from the Projects. Think her name was Chasity. Anyway, a group of them came out of the back of a delivery van. Becky hid behind a dumpster but they grabbed Chasity. Neither girl had quite learned how to fight but they had a guardian.

One of the bastards got his head chopped off by a flying blade.

Another one was impaled by a long katanna.

The one behind him got his gut sliced open by a smaller sword, spilling his intestines into the gutter.

After those three were killed, that's when the group realized Miho was there. Their guns rattled away, but hit nothing. She flipped overhead with two brief glints of metal spinning around her. The goons stood still for a second before their heads rolled off their shoulders with their bodies dropping soon after. Chasity got up, trying to regain her composure. That's when the bastard responsible for it all popped out of the van.

The Joker. Son of a bitch. He finally shows up in Sin City and where does he go first? Old Town! He came out and yanked Chasity around as two other goons flanked him. Miho avoided their gunfire and tackled Joker to the ground, ready to shove a katanna through his chest. He grabbed the flower on his lapel, squirting a stream of acid which Miho had to dodge. When she was forced to let him go, Joker managed to pull Chasity inside the van and shut the doors. Meanwhile, the remaining goons fired at Miho some more, only to get cut down in the next second. As she dealt with them, the van sped away with Chasity in tow. Becky was hysterical when she told us the story but at least now we know what we're dealing with. Miho has been on edge ever since. She's been aching for a chance at the Joker. We're going to oblige her. It looks like I won't be leaving as soon as I planned.


	20. The Silent Killer

I was beginning to experience Sin City's famous heat. After the last big rainfall, the humidity began to rise and never stopped. By this point, it was as if Spring never came at all. The deathly chill of Winter or the smoldering heat of Summer: there didn't seem to be much in between those extremes.

I showed up in Old Town and stayed low. I wanted information, not a fight. They liked to deal with things in their own fashion from what I understood and they had quite a few problems even before the Joker came to pay them a visit. The girls had just had to deal with the aftermath of Marv and the killer from the Farm. It seemed as if his way of life had finally caught up to him from what I had read. Again, that was the sort of justice this city received: a psychopath tearing through the city before being executed by a corrupt system? I really questioned if my own brand was any better. How many times would I have to go after the Joker? Was McCarthy right when he suggested snapping his neck? I put an end to that line of thinking almost immediately. It wasn't the first time I had these thoughts but they seemed to creep up more often while in the city.

I searched the area and found a neighborhood filled with debauchery and perversions of every kind. Women of various ages and sizes paraded themselves to men from different economic classes. It was disgusting. The air was rotten, hot, and stench-filled. Their leader was a woman named Gail. I only knew of rumors about Joker's attack but I needed details. She would be the one who would probably know best. I questioned a drunk in the street and found out where she lived. I wanted to speak to her privately without incident but I would not be that fortunate.

I was probably only about a block away from where she lived when I heard the faint sound of metal deflecting off a brick wall. I ducked down just as the air was sliced in half with only the slightest of whispers. A large shuriken shaped like a Manji embedded itself into the wall beside me. It was not a warning shot by any means. I spun around and came face-to-face with a small Asian woman draped in a kimono. She was little over five feet tall and barely cleared one hundred pounds. She moved quickly and was as quiet as the killer I faced on the Farm. She wielded a katana in one hand and a smaller kodachi in the other one.

She spun into the air, a ballerina suspended in time and space. I rolled along the pavement as she cut two swathes through the wall behind me. I stepped out of the alley as she somersaulted into position. I noticed that some of the denizens of Old Town were watching us but were keeping their distances. Apparently, this little one was their enforcer. They didn't need to act if she was present. Considering her apparent mood and deadliness, it wouldn't be wise to get in her way. She thrusted. I managed to catch one of her wrists and I immediately leaned back as she parried with her kodachi. I threw her into the street, bringing a pickup truck to a halt. She flipped in the air, bounced off the hood of the truck, and disappeared into the alley across the street. I followed, slipping infra-red lenses into place as I dived into the darkness.

I heard the air whistling above me and back flipped as shuriken rained down. I spun onto my palms as more and more blades hit the pavement. I sprang onto my feet and latched onto the end of a fire escape as the final star was whipped into the cement block to my left. I climbed up and got a view of my deadly little friend on the roof. I threw myself from the fire escape just as another throwing star tore a hole through my cape. My fingers grasped the ledge a few feet underneath her where she disappeared again.

When I came onto the rooftop, I heard nothing but I knew she would be attacking from the rear. I spun around, throwing a kick while catching a glimpse of her twisting in mid-air, connecting against my chest. I rolled onto my back as she pulled her swords again. One sword slid into the paneling on the rooftop. I brought my heel down, forcing the blade further into the concrete. She swung her long sword around, nearly taking my head off. I gave her a sharp palm thrust to her abdomen. If she made a sound, I didn't know it. She responded with a round house kick across my temple. The tip of her blade pierced through the air, straight for my face. I cocked my head to the right, allowing the blade to pass. My hands grasped the hilt of her sword as she pulled it away. With a twist, I finally managed to flip her onto her back and throw the sword over the side of the roof.

"Stand down," I told her.

"Why don't you do the same?," I heard a familiar voice ask.


	21. One Hot Night

"Dwight McCarthy," Batman said after a few seconds, "You've changed a bit since we last met."

I'm not sure how he recognized me. Maybe it was my voice or maybe he recognized my eyes like Manute did. He's supposed to be a detective, after all. He's a smart guy so there was no use pretending otherwise. Gail was right behind me with her uzi trained on Bats while I had my two Colts. I was more than surprised to see Miho on the ground like that. It was the first time I ever saw anyone last more than a few seconds against her, let get the better of her. Still, she was alive and conscious which was a good thing because I knew I would be needing her help. We had heard a rumor that Bats had gone off the deepend so we weren't taking any chances.

"Good eyes, Bats," I didn't lower my Colts for nothing, "Now do what I said. Stand down."

"No. Put your guns away before I take them."

"You got no right sticking your nose where it don't belong," Gail sneered.

"Final warning."

"Funny. I was about to say the same thing."

Me and Bats both acted at the same time. I threw myself on the ground, shooting off a few rounds as one of those bat-shaped things went right over my head. It ended up hitting Gail, knocking her to the ground. He flipped around, dancing between my gunshots. One gun was kicked out of my hand. I knew I couldn't do much. I was just buying Miho some time.

She grabbed the smaller sword that was stuck in the roof and flew in behind him, slashing madly through the air. He dipped out of the way and I fired my spare rod. He ducked but Miho got the drop on him. She wrapped one arm around his throat while she shoved the tip of her blade under his ribcage. Seemed like she put it in just enough to break the first layer of skin: not fatal but close enough to give him a warning. It seemed like he didn't fully realize the blade was inside of him until he looked down. Miho. You won't feel a thing unless she wants you to.

I took aim right between his eyes and picked up my second gun, sliding it into my coat. Gail picked herself off the ground and took aim again, "Bastard." We had `im but it seemed as though the rumors about him going crazy were false. He wasway too calm. Especially for a guy who was in Miho's clutches like that.

"Kill me and there's nothing saving you from the Joker," he told us.

"We don't want to kill you but if you don't settle down, Miho will give that sword of hers a twist and split you wide open. If she fails somehow, Gail and I got you dead in our sights."

"Then what? Do you have the slightest clue how to deal with this maniac?"

"We've dealt with our own."

"You haven't faced anyone like him. Kidnapping that woman was only the beginning. We don't know where he is right now but I have an idea what he's doing with the woman he captured. I can save her if you let me."

I looked at Gail and she nodded, "Fine. Let him go, Miho."

Miho seemed pretty reluctant but she slid the sword out of him. The two of them exchange glares at one another. Gail rolled her eyes and wanted to get down to business, "So what do you know?" Batman told us about some sort of drug the Joker had injected into a clean cop. Made the guy go nuts; gave me him some sort of moral trip and he tried to take out the entire police precinct. Batman had heard about one of the girls getting kidnapped and figured that since Old Town had its own brand of justice, the Joker was targetting the few people in Sin City with any sense of duty. Apparently, it was all a sick joke for him. Guess his name fit.

"Now tell me what you know," Batman demanded after he was finished.

"The girl was pretty quiet," I told him, "Never said much about herself but I did some snooping and found out that she was from the Projects. She was escaping some trouble out that way so maybe it's a start. Other than that, I only know her name: Chasity."

Those creepy blank eyes of Batman's suddenly widened. Guess he knew her. He didn't say anything more. He just dropped off the side of the roof and glided down with his cape. "What the Hell?," Gail shouted. I turned to Miho and she nodded, leaping off the roof after him. I began to follow but Gail grabbed my coat. "Be careful," she told me and gave me a look that could melt a glacier. I didn't say anything. I just dropped onto the firescape below and lept off, landing in the alley. Luckily, my caddy was nearby and Miho was already in the passenger seat.

I spun out just as Bats flew by in a Porsche. We followed him out of Old Town, halfway across the city, and into the Projects. He drove pretty well. He was trying to lose us but I knew every backalley and sidestreet in the city. I kept my eyes forward, making my way over the pavement until we were both in the center of the Projects. My heart was pumping its way through my ribcage the whole way. The Projects were bad news to begin with. Even by Sin City standards, it wasn't a friendly place. We now had to face one of the most dangerous men in the country on top of it all. We followed Batman to an old apartment building. I was aware of the place as a gang hideout. Somehow, Batman figured Chasity would show up there.

As soon as we peeled onto the parking lot, the whole place exploded, sending debris and glass in every direction. The night sky was lit up with a massive orange fireball and I felt a slight tremor through my body as I slammed on the brakes. Chunks of the building fell from the sky. Our cars shook. Flames and smoke were everywhere. The few support beams and walls left standing creaked and groaned as if they were warning us that they wouldn't be standing for long. Miho and I jumped out of the caddy while Batman got out of his ride. I was expecting him to lecture us some more but he was concerned with other matters. The flames roared into the night sky as what was left of the building was consumed, making the air even hotter than what it already was. Wanna know the worst part of all of this? There were apparently some people inside the building before it blew. I'm not even going to begin to describe what I saw there.

I would find out later that Chasity's brother had gotten involved in the gangs in this area. Some guy called Killer Croc, one of Batman's friends from Gotham, had come to town and killed the poor guy. Batman got involved along with **Marv** of all people. That was what she was running from. She was a nice girl. Had a sense of decency about her. She didn't deserve what happened.

Lit only by the fires raging around us, we could see her approach. She was dressed in a black dominatrix outfit. A black, leather trench coat was drapped around her arms and shoulders, cut at the bottom to look like bat wings. The mask she wore was also leather with driving goggles, a zipper across the mouth, and two small bat ears on top. Needless to say, she had been injected with Joker's drug. She was enacting her revenge against the gang members of the Projects and was doing a helluva job of it. One of the sorry bastards was on the ground, crawling out of the wreckage. He was on fire; his legs crushed to jelly. He only had a few moments to live. Chasity calmly walked over the chunks of concrete and dead bodies, opened her coat, and pulled a bloodied machete. Batman didn't stop her. The guy was practically dead already and in a lot of pain, so if anything, Chasity was showing him mercy by slicing his head off.

"Lovely girl, isn't she?," I heard a snakelike voice coming out of the shadows. I had a good idea who it was and my heart started pumping harder. Then Batman confirmed it for me, "Joker." He came from behind, wearing a long black coat. From the firelight, I could make out a pale, white face. His lips were dark red; stretched out ina chesire grin. His hair was green and unkempt.

"I spent most of my time watching this city," he said, seemingly ignoring me and Miho as he paced around Bats, "It's a perfect place for a guy like me. I mean, I thought Gotham was great, but wow! This town is the proverbial barrel of monkeys! It's a city where every citizen seems to get the joke. I really didn't need to do much here because it was already a laugh riot before I showed up!"

"What've you done to her, Joker?," Batman stormed forward but Chasity jumped across the lot, brandishing her machete menacingly in front of `im.

"Take five, sweetheart," Joker said as he moved behind her, "Well, you already saw the police officer so I'm sure you're aware of what I'm doing here. Y'see, despite the entertainment I received watching Sin City, I became bored by the fact that it needed something," Joker spun around, shoving a finger at Batman, "And of course, that something was **you!** There was no Batman to right the wrongs so I decided to give it to them. I spied around, finding the perfect specimens for my little experiment. They would be created in your image, of course. Flattering, hm? The cop was first but Sin City's finest turned him into Swiss cheese, unfortunately. My next stop was in prison where I tried to enlist someone who would **really** make things fun but he wouldn't play along. Then I went to Old Town since those girls are just absolutely **adorable**. What with their own brand of justice and all."

"But none of this makes any sense," I chimed in, "I mean, what the Hell could you accomplish with all of this?" Normally, I would've just capped the bastard but I seriously wanted some answers before that happened.

"Well, Bats may seem to be a bit boring... **and he really is**,... but he still makes things interesting. As fun as your city was, having its own version of the Caped Crusader would just make things all the more exciting. You're welcome, by the way," Joker scratched his chin, "And y'know, I made my Batman already and now I have a Batwoman to be the Mommy. It's a nice little family to play house with. It's just too bad we don't have any bat-eared rugrats running around."

I realized what he was really saying. It wasn't just a joke. He was blatantly telling us his next move. "There's an orphanage a few blocks from here," I told Batman. "Go," he said but I was already in my caddy. He had stopped caring about us hanging around. For that one moment, we were on the same wavelength. I left Miho with Bats to handle Chasity and Joker. Whatever that sick bastard was planning needed to be dealt with immediately. I put all my weight on the accelerator and prayed I wouldn't be too late.


	22. No Hope

McCarthy left for the orphanage to stop whatever Joker had planted there. I hoped he knew what he was doing. Meanwhile, I had other matters to attend to. What was left of the apartment building finally tumbled to the side, throwing smoke and embers into the air. Miho and I stood facing the Joker and Chasity, illuminated mostly by the flames around us. The heat was scortching.

Chasity raised her machete, nearly swiping my head off. Miho stayed behind, possibly to finish off the Joker. He blew a kiss to both of us, "Ta-ta," he waved as he walked into a nearby building, "I have a ride to catch." Miho started after him but Chasity spun, bringing her machete down to block her way. She suddenly had a gleam in her eye and took a step back, preparing herself to deal with Chasity. Like it or not, we were in this together.

Chasity made an upward swing; Miho arched her back to avoid the blade and then countered it with her sword as it came back down. I slid along the ground, bringing both heels into the backs of Chasity's knees. She back flipped onto her feet, only to get a kick in the stomach from Miho which brought her to the ground. Chasity snarled angrily and if she was trying to say something, I couldn't tell. She tore the mask off her face and I could see the veins throbbing along her temples.

I threw a smoke bomb but she ran straight through the small cloud, parrying toward me. I stepped to the side, hitting her at the base of her skull. She stumbled forward, only to have her legs swept out from under her by Miho. Miho seemed to be holding back at least enough not to kill her. I suppose her loyalty to the Old Town girls wouldn't allow for her to kill one of their own. It was the only piece of admiration I could find in her. I crept down to administer a tranquilizer but Chasity shot up, backhanding me hard enough that I landed on the hood of a nearby car.

She took a swing at Miho's midsection and was subsequently blocked. She brought the machete around in an attempt to cleave her skull in half but Miho raised her sword over her head in defense. I made my move. I knew that Miho wasn't going to kill Chasity by this point. Despite that, there was a part of me that almost hoped she would, if only to put her out of her misery. She had suffered enough and there was nothing to do for her. I hated myself for that thought. I reminded myself that I still had some of Anderson's DNA and it could help me in finding a cure once Chasity was subdued. "Are you really that good, Bruce?," I asked myself, "You don't seem to be making much headway so far." I shut the thought away.

I shoved my heel into Chasity's ribcage, forcing her to twist around and swing her machete over her head awkwardly. Miho made an upward thrust, finally removing it from her grip. Chasity threw a punch but Miho ducked, slicing her sword across her thighs. Chasity finally dropped to her knees so I shoved the tranq in her neck. She instantly began to kick and flail wildly. Miho and I stepped back as she growled and swung her arms hard enough to crack the pavement. Suddenly, she sprang toward Miho who flipped over her head. She snatched the machete from the ground and hurled it at me. I stepped out of the way as it sliced halfway through the car door behind me. Chasity managed to stand on her feet, lurching toward us.

"I can help you, Chasity," I heard myself tell her, "Just let me help."

She lunged for me once again, so I shoved another dart into her neck. Miho snuck in behind her, giving her a sharp kick to the back of the head. Chasity spun around blindly but was showing signs of finally slowing down. She took a few steps forward, mumbled something, and then fell unconscious. To make sure, I secured her with some cable. Miho sheathed her sword and seemed to wait for me. We looked up at the rooftop above us. Joker was next. We didn't hesitate.


	23. Meanwhile

My caddy roared over pavement, the V8 vibrations running up through my entire body, reminding me once again why it is that I don't go for modern cars. I flew to the edges of the Projects where the orphanage resided. If my hunch was right, this was where Joker was planning his next move. As I approached, I could see a big hot air balloon on the roof that had a joker playing card on it. The Joker might've been a criminal mastermind but he apparently didn't care to be discrete. I pumped the accelerator, smashing my chrome bumper into the front gates, forcing them wide open. The car skidded to the side, running alongside the front door.

A goon showed up with a shotgun, ready to blow my head clean off. As my caddy spun to the side, I fired a shot through his crown. The car was put in park and I leapt out as two more goons came racing down the front stoop. I fired from both barrels, putting a few holes through their guts before I hit the ground. I reloaded and moved inside. No reason to play it quiet.

The hallway was empty which made me all kinds of nervous. I crept along the wall, peering into a dorm. A few kids were tied up and left without a guard. Seemed like the kids were prepared for something. What it was, I was afraid to find out. I put my lips up to my mouth, making sure they kept quiet. If I let them go, they might've gotten killed or worse. I raced toward the stairs just as a shotgun blast erupted above me, spilling wood and tile. I threw myself onto my back and shot upward at the jerk on the floor above me. I clipped him, forcing him to fall over the railing. I can't lie. A little bit of me actually enjoyed the sound of his neck breaking when he fell. I made my way up the stairs to the second floor.

As I came up, another goon flung a door open, firing from around the doorway. I rolled along the tiles, putting a few shots through the wood paneling. Luckily, the city had cheapened out on the orphanage. My bullets had no trouble making their way through the door and straight into the bastard. I saw a shadow on the wall and leapt to my feet just as I felt the air slice under me. I spun around and saw another clown brandishing two knives. He was pretty good. I had to duck down and fire a shot under his ribcage. He was thrown off his feet and fell back down the stairwell.

"Screw this," I said out loud. This place was crawling with Joker's men so I decided the stairs were the worst place. It was too open. I slipped into a nearby classroom and jumped onto the teacher's desk. "Mother Mary Catherine is gonna hate seeing the sneaker marks on her desk in the morning," I thought to myself. I opened the vent above me and crawled in. From there, I made my way across the shaft into the upper level. I pressed my palms and heels against the walls of the shaft and shimmied my way up. Eventually, I ended up in the third floor. I peered through the next vent, seeing two more guards. Apparently, they were waiting for me at the top of the stairs. "Surprise, assholes!," I said as I hung upside down, firing away. Their dead bodies tumbled almost all the way down to the first floor. I dropped down and sprinted to the maintenance door leading to the roof. I slammed my shoulder into it, knocking it open then reloaded as I ran up the final chunk of steps. My heart was pumping, my eyes were narrowed, and I was ready to do some killing.

I busted my way onto the roof. I fired a couple of shots into the jerks standing guard before they had a chance to raise their shotguns. There was another one next to the edge who managed to get a shot off. I rolled along the roof and sprang up, giving him a good kick to the chest, spilling him over the edge. Once the smoke settled, I got a good look at my surroundings.

The hot air balloon stood in front of me with a rope securing it firmly to the roof. On the other side of the roof was a load of TNT and a timer. It was set to go off in a little over five minutes so I didn't have too much time to think. Several metal tubs were wired to the dynamite that I figured were filled with the stuff Joker was using to turn people into psychos. I guess once he bombed the orphanage, the few survivors would be dosed with the stuff and be turned loose on the city. I hefted the bomb into my arms and wondered what the hell I thought I was doing playing the hero like that. I set the bomb inside the balloon's basket and disconnected the tubs from the dynamite. I had no way of getting rid of the tubs or the goop inside but it was probably best to not mess with it anyway. Two minutes to go. I whipped the rope off, allowing the balloon to float into the air. I ducked back as I watched it float away from the roof. Wasn't long before the entire thing went up in a ball of flames; whatever was left fell to the ground. In the distance, I could hear sirens from Sin City's finest. I decided to haul ass out of there and let them clean the mess up. Let them earn the money tax-payers give them for once.


	24. The Last Laugh

Miho and I made our way up to the apartment rooftops. There was a cluster of them, lined up in various states of decay as if the city government built the buildings hastily and with as many as possible in one small area, then left. It was a desolate landscape of wood and concrete. Joker stood at the far end of one roof. He had a stick with a handkerchief wrapped around the end flung over his shoulder. He held his thumb out to the skyline, "Damn balloon's late," he cackled, "Guess I'll have to hitch a ride." In the distance, I could make out the form of a large hot air balloon rising in the distance through a cloud of dark smog. "Oh wait, there it is," Joker laughed. A moment later, the balloon erupted in a ball of flames and what was left came crashing to the ground below. McCarthy apparently did his part. "And now, there it isn't!," he dropped his stick and turned to us, "Well drats, curses, and all that. Looks like I've been foiled again."

Miho and I looked at one another. I had her loyalty and somehow, she had mine. We nodded in unison and made our move. Joker gave us that arrogant sneer he always gets. The kind that makes me want to put my fist down his throat, reach all the way down, and rip his heart out. He took the remote trigger from his pocket, making sure we saw it before he hit the detonation button. We both darted in opposite directions with the fleeting idea that we might make it.

The explosions were everywhere. All of the roofs were apparently rigged with small explosives. The sound was deafening, rising up in a climatic roar of white noise that suddenly popped in my ears, replaced by a thin whine. Flames and debris flew all around me and I was a leaf in a tornado. The air was hot, smoke filled my lungs and my head throbbed painfully as the whine turned into a ring. I hit a warm roof with bits of gravel and burning wood falling beside me. It was caved in slightly, but luckily, it held firm. My eyesight was a blur but I could make out the spreading flames and billows of smoke. My legs were jello and I concentrated to ignore the ringing. Joker walked through the cloud of dark smoke with a magnum aimed squarely at me. There was no sign of Miho. I had no idea if she was alive and if so, what state she was in. I fought through the pain and stood up. Joker gave me a wink and pulled the trigger. As expected, a small flag popped out with the word "BANG!" printed in bright letters.

"You're running out of material, Joker," I told him even though I couldn't actually hear my own voice, "It's an old joke that lost its charm a long time ago. Humor isn't the only thing you should give up."

I couldn't hear his voice very well, but I read his lips, "Ah, but there's a new punch line."

He pulled the trigger again. The flagpole shot out of the gun, the plastic round tip bouncing off my throat. I coughed and fell to the ground. The ringing was beginning to subside enough that I could hear his footsteps nearby. I managed to prop myself up on my hands and knees before his steel toed shoe hit me in the jaw. I tumbled onto my back with Joker standing over me. He reached into his jacket one more time, "I wish I could've been a bit more theatrical about this, old bean," I could scarcely hear him say, "Amazing how this city brings out the worst in people, isn't it?," he placed a metal plate over his knuckles which had a joker playing card engraved on it. He hefted me up by my cowl and raised his fist, "It's a sad day when I get artistically lazy."

Behind him, I saw two pillars of smoke pull back like an opening scroll. Silent, deadly little Miho flew between them. Her kimono was torn and burnt, she had apparently lost her sword, but she still had one more weapon. She opened her palm with deadly precision. The throwing knife shot out like a missile while Joker still had his fist drawn. Everything stopped. The ringing was no longer present as I could distinctly hear the sound of metal against metal. Joker blinked and looked at the back of his knuckles. The knife was hilt deep inside the plate. He turned his hand over and looked at his palm. Miho: you won't feel a thing unless she wants you to. The knife was protruding out of Joker's hand with a trail of blood dripping down.

"Heeeeey," he whined as he looked at the blood with dissatisfaction.

Miho's kick brought Joker to the ground.

My punch rendered him unconscious.

The second punch just felt good.

What was left of the rooftops were burning all around us. I had finally regained my strength while Joker laid at my feet. I looked down at him and then at Miho. Without saying it, she was telling me that she was giving me the kill. I had earned it in her eyes. "I never understood why you didn't just snap that bastard's neck," McCarthy's words came back to me. And what if I did? The only witness I had was a mute assassin that worked for hookers in Sin City. In a place like this, what would it matter? They'd congratulate me, if anything. It wasn't my world, so what did my ideals even mean? From somewhere, the city called to me. It screamed and begged for me to finally finish it while at the same time, it mocked me. It laughed and sneered at everything I ever stood or fought for.

In the distance, I could hear police sirens. McCarthy honked his horn in the street below. He had Chasity in the backseat, still sedated and tied up. She almost looked peaceful. This wasn't my world. I knew that. So why play be their rules? I slung Joker over my shoulder and got the Hell out of there.

As I left, I could hear the city growl angrily.


	25. Leaving Town

"We'll take care of her," Gail told me as I placed Chasity on a bed. We made our way to Old Town before the police showed up. Joker was heavily sedated and tied up in a locked room with Miho on guard duty while I called the federal agents one last time. They arrived shortly and took him. I wanted to go along with them but I couldn't leave Chasity. I had to make sure she was okay. The amateur surgeons in Old Town were impressive, I have to admit. They kept her stable while I went to work. I used Anderson's DNA and the sparse lab equipment I had brought with me from Gotham. Her bloodpressure dropped and she was fast asleep once I injected her. I stayed by her bedside that night.

"You don't have to stay here" McCarthy informed me,"You got your men."

"From what I understand, you don't have to stay here, either," I told him.

He made an understanding nod. I never knew his whole story. There was never any reason to ask, nor was there a reason for him to tell me. He stayed for the same reason I stayed. That much was certain.

In the morning, I saw a pair of beautiful blue eyes opening. Chasity smiled. "I can't remember much of what happen," she told me, "But I know I need to thank you." "Let's get you something to eat," Gail said as she disappeared with one of the girls. McCarthy disappeared some time that morning without telling anyone. Gail seemed upset. Chasity was on her feet that afternoon. I watched as she packed her bags, ready to leave Basin for somewhere better. Obviously, I didn't stay around to say my goodbyes anymore than McCarthy did. I turned to leave and noticed Miho standing behind me. We nodded to each other with an inexplicable sense of comradre between us and I was gone.

I returned to Gotham and paid a visit to Arkham to make sure the inmates were still there. Gordon welcomed me back and filled me in on a new case. He told me that the city wasn't the same without me. He told me Gotham needs me. Do I really make a difference? Perhaps. Perhaps not. What matters is that I do what is needed. In a city like this, even if only one single person cares, it's all that matters.


End file.
